Outsider s death

I do not even remember how it happened. Stop… Wrongly. This way… Tell you what… Maybe I just cannot realize how it started…
Shivering. Road to lead me on. Sky to be different somehow. My path to be surprisingly cursed.
Oh!
There is something on the move on a road of mine that I cannot describe correctly. I am not even sure what it really was. What? Or who? Or ‘what’ and ‘who’ together…
Now there is music in my mind. Each and all sounds stitch me like a cold blind wind of winter. The stirring events of composition involve me into disbulia. It is condescension.
I remember that moment. Mr. ‘guess who’ is on my way in front of face of mine. Take a look at him! Who are you?.. No answer to be heard…
It is not funny. It is like a continuous sluggish schizophrenia. And it hurts me. ‘twould be better. I could not put my feelings and expressions on. I was angry. Who are you? What’s your name? Where’d you come from? Please…
The stranger smiled at me and then told:
- I am the death of somebody else. Stake.
- So what do you want from me?
- Your mercy.
- Let take it.
And then it disappeared at one moment.
There are not stitching sounds ‘twixt my ears and faded stranger to be thinking ‘bout.
There’s a path. There’s a sky. There’s a night of mine and road to flow into my consequence. Was it the foot-and-mouth disease perhaps?
Who can tell… nowadays…