The man was an enigmatic riddler. His mind worked like the creaking of an old wheel. In the gloom of night I tried to track him down and overcome the wicked obscurantist. Along with his evil footprints the obscurantist night walker sprinkled the night with the dew of wickedness. Whispering to myself I became lost and retraced my steps to search him out. I saw him standing near a window with an illness in his face; he had the evil eyed look of whimsical visions. His mind seemed removed in the distance as he tossed through the window a moth eaten prayer book.
I later saw him sleeping by the side of the road, he suddenly awoke and stood there shouting obscenities about the world. Words that spoke about sacred mysteries and the retarding force of a revelatory apocalypse. He was out of his mind prolonging his image of self importance.
He then started singing a song of death. It went as follows, "To be forgotten, to have someone clip your wings in flight."
He visited my thoughts continually. In my mind he laughed and groaned under the affliction of me trying to squeeze him out of my head.
He hid from the pouring rain under the deadly nightshade of a poisonous tree and like a wild dog he tried to bite passers by. I watched him as he passed many sleepless nights.
He was a wretched man who was stupid with a constant overcast of mood. But I was always on his scent to see where he came from. I could see his blighted beast crowing out noises. I tried to smoke him out of the forest with incensing but he escaped to the other side in shattered ruins. He walked into the declining sunset and then fell into the yawning abyss never to be seen again.