Monday, November 3, 2008

Lost in Transition

My mind is lucid,
I see lights up on the ceiling, it feels like Roof Tripping,
I look to the side there is white everywhere, the whiteness is blinding.
I hear voices, I see chaos,
yet I'm still calm and collected
I see panic stricken faces
I feel peaceful
I see screaming faces
I feel silent
A thousand hands grab at me and lift me towards the light, I feel lifted
Men in white with suicidal equipment want to cut me open,
but my Morphine mind wont let my body take over, slowly I drift away.

I awake to darkness,
I awake to the silence,
I awake to the coldness,
I awake to misery,
I get up and start walking through the long cold corridor,
the corridor is dark and cold and black,
there is something very nimbus about long cold corridors
I'm doing the walk of Death.

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