What? You expected more?
Since I am the only one who reads this anyway...
A Dying Daydream~
Hell is just a slow final breath
as creeping slowly comes our death--
a moment between the tick and the tock,
a lifetime spun out on the clock.
The dying mind will recede and bend
while reality and lunacy begin to blend
to protect itself in vain--to fight
the inexorable end, the falling of night.
Each second a year, a decade, or more
as I lay dying upon the cold floor;
my mind grows dim, or is it my soul
tumbling endlessly into that hole.
The realization draws slowly near
that reality isn't what it appears,
a dying delusion, deep as a dream,
a pain-filled nightmare, or so it would seem.
Helpless, I watch the Pattern unfold--
there's no such thing, or so I've been told,
yet all I perceive says otherwise--
everyone leaves, and everyone dies.
Until I am left to witness alone
my once-young heart turn slowly to stone,
and when hope has fled, taking the light,
boldly will I go into that night.