Frustration.
Stagnation.
Dissociation.
Imagination.

Alternating footsteps.
Running.
Jumping off.
And soaring.

The Hummingbird that catches.
Prevents the fall and scratches.
Unstruck matches.
Contains fuses and fire.

The flight leads to Land.
Where cotton is sand.
Where Life is grand.
Where Weak Knees can stand.

A lifetime in minutes.
A minute for eternity.
An eternity of chosen Destiny.
A Destiny that'll never be.

A Captain of the Sea.
A Chief among the Trees.
Commander of the Breeze.
In Reality never Free.

Staring off the sand.
Lived lifetimes that never happened.
Just to come back the next day.
Where the Lost is not Astray.

Someone has thrown another coal,
It asked me to burn my worst
Bewitched by illusion
Like the little match girl—
But isn't that the dream I seek
To dive into the hole like Alice did
So was me being awake
Really the best that it could be;
Can't I stay here burning
Until the sun I became?

Dare I tell a tale, oh so eerie,
faces go pale, senses are lost,
as knell overflows the hearing,
unheard, hair fall tossed,
blood brought to a boil.

It opens with moss and greenery,
hinting a shallow soil,
painting the scene peaceful, serene,
but the coating is fresh and thin.
Like something was quickly covered beneath,
the way you'll surely hide behind a grin
the grinding of your teeth, in just a moment.
"Why the rush?" comes a thought—
good, nicely caught, but no spoilers.

The deed that's done here,
spawned by a curse like no other—
It cannot be cured, and only endured
siphoning the life of another.
Cruel is fate of those who astray
and open up hearts to darkest of arts
allured by their offer.

Reading through verses of old,
they want to behold the world
through the eyes of their foul sires,
and learn from grim tomes
the knowledge untold, until they’re absorbed
and molded akin, so they, too, may sin
with the same sins, following the same desires.

Now, I'm really sorry, but here ends the story,
my gourmet hunger satisfied, you were most kind!
You see, I'm of such readers, I am accursed, and I've rummaged
through the purse of your lifespan for quite some time.
But this was much needed! I hope you don't mind!
Just please turn the page and I'm sure you'll be fine!

This moment is just a dream,
An illusion of a greater being
And once the cold death
Gave us it's warm embrace
We will fall into silence
As we wake up to see the reality.

If so, then why plague your mind with worry?
If this is just a dream, then why are you experiencing it in tragedy
When you can easily make it into comedy.

I love illusions.
Of places I've never been to.
Of situations that might never get real.
And of people who're not the same anymore.

I must be hallucinating.