What If?

I look down into the deep, dry well.

All I see is an abyss
of unfathomable darkness.

I bend lower.

My head loosens suddenly from my neck.

It falls—tumbling down into the abyss—
and is lost.

I stand stupidly,
with only my limp neck remaining.

My hands grip the wall.

I am lost.

The cage that housed my brain
is gone.

Is this how humans will metamorphose
in the coming days?

Headless.

Mindless creatures.

Walking blindly.
Following blindly.

Unthinking.
Unfeeling?

Only a lump of flesh—
a body with hands, legs,
and a long, limp neck—

robbed of cognition.

Still walking.
Still walking.

Groping.

pulling. 

pushing.

jostling 

And one day, forgetting
there was ever a head.