Other forces...

A mind game aiming hunting the vitreous heart,
Which piled with it, panes of tales of pain,
With cacophonous voices haunting every other time,
It is but an end game, ending the last visible blink.
Light like my wings have thrusted out,
Dark like my senses have flushed,
Yet feeling that which was never felt.
Giggles with meaning none and shrills one after one
Catch my subtle self and I can no more control.
Not even my thought, nor my mortal will.
Effortlessly I wobble with weightlessness.
Fear? What does that mean?
Ask me. I can dive into seven seas.
But just the name that I shall ever ask me forget.
Ah the names! Aren't they that bring tempest back?
I am a warrior with no shield. Warring myself.
And there the end turns in. An end into myself.
Should I trust my enemy self? No more.
Already warped into nothing. Squaring dose of pain.
Well where was I? On shores of seven seas I guess.
Dancing all the way, like the eternal dance of winds,
And rallying with dust and smoke, I rushed
Back into the arms of nature. Into my early form again.
These forces! Not vital but suppressed my vitality.
Rejuvenated yet extinguished me. Decimated me.
What I am when I am not what I was?
Than a mere speckle of spark less dust.
No more voices. No more giggles. No more pain. No war.
No dance. Nor a moment felt. I'm no more here. And no where.