Panic

and the words cover their faces
obscure their vision and plug their ears
the words seep into their mouths and rest on their tongues
the words fill their lungs

until they can see nothing else, hear nothing else,
taste, breathe and feel
nothing else

and the shadows of the past are not shadows
but living breathing anchors
holding them captive to visions of themselves and the world
no longer true

and so they struggle to find hidden paths and hear new voices
to sing novel songs and taste fresh fruit

but though the words are all consuming
and the visions overwhelming
they struggle on

and they must
because this struggle is ours as well.

So said God to the angels.