So I stole an idea. Sue me.
Vision
Perceptions pour into my eyes like molten iron through a fire hose.
I fall to the floor, my brain burning, my skull too small.
I am naked in a vast ocean of dry, roiling earth.
Rich black soil drifts past; it smells like chocolate and peat.
Worms the size of buildings meander through the dirt that is, to them, like air.
I reach out to touch one; my hand glides over its tough skin then it is gone.
Gems the size of my head are formed then shattered by great boulders.
They are dull in the darkness but their surface is still smooth, their edges still sharp.
I am suddenly crushed to dust by the boulders, as vision fades I see them migrate apart.
Then they are in turn crushed by still larger boulders; great floating mountains.
I awake on the cold floor gasping for breath, the read clearing from my eyes.
I am left only with the pain and the memory; left to ponder what it meant.