Distant sounds drift in with the breeze
Faint recollections of opening a window surface
Voices float on streams of consciousness
In one ear and out the other
High frequency waves of vibrations shatter the silence
Body at rest, mind restless

A periwinkle snap of the fingers
A glazed-over, ungazed-at afterthought of a dimwitted maker
Allowing only specks of atmosphere to puncture through for gasps of air
An assassination without capacity for reflection or modesty.
Broadening my horizons, my eyes adjusting to the sun's sheddings,
I notice the satin ribbons of the west, trotting over the hills, blood-lusting,
Roaring in anticipation of the persecution of the dry, dusty chandelier to the north
Forcing the lumination,
Breaking open the porous night-covering threatening to its final breath
The self-mutilation to bring it and its 3 navigational acquaintances to the bone-encrusted, sadistic
Hell of the humans, modern-day Terra, the disease-laced, frayed blanket of Gaea.
And as I viciously avert my eyes as the first blow finds a weak exposed abdomen,
I pray to God that I might participate in this brawl,
And I curse high heaven that it is so fateful a dusk.

Wandering but not lost is my heart
Fevers of a summers day
It holds

Wandering but not lost is my heart
Frost of a winters day
With colds

Wandering but not lost is my heart
The emotion like an autumn day
With death around

Wandering but not lost is my hearts
As spring brings new life
Not a blooming sound

Upon my hands I hold fear
It isn't something I hold dear

It frightens me in reality
It hunts my dreams

It tells me
"Nothing is as it seems"

Upon day break it speaks softly
But at night it is loud

Gathering in my head a large un silent crowd

It whispers about demons
It whispers about legions

About how they will choke me in my sleep
If I was to dare fall to deep

So I stay awake
As he tortures me overnight
He is my enemy and his name is fright