I wake up in the morning with a head heavy as stone
With thoughts haunting, what actually have i done?
The light through the curtains, is piercing through the eyes
Sears a pain, like a needle prick, as to open when it tries.
I know not where I lie on, bed of roses or thorns
Lost I am in the deafening siren inside the head that honks.
Where am I lying, is it a room, does it have a door?
What’s besides me seems to me nothing more than a blur
The alarm goes off, it goes off and still goes off
I feel to bang it on the wall, kill it raw and rough
But the surge jus remains in the upper quarters
Doesn’t translate to the parts other
I want my arms to move, but the arms do not budge
The elbows I try to bend, but they won’t nudge
I try to lift my leg, make some movement
But frozen I am it seems, in the very moment
I attempt to see something, it’s just the walls closing in
Try to look up, I see the scary roof caving in
I sure know am all alone, no sign of life around
Am the only ride in this unstoppable merry-go-round
Through all this scratching thoughts, I take a moment to ponder
What is happening exactly, thoughtfully I wonder
Is it the approaching train or the end of the tunnel light
Is this the end of everything or just the end of the night?
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ReplyDeleteBravo! Bravo!
ReplyDeleteThis one's a good one dude! Can relate to it, can realize the under-current.
Hail the man! Hail Sambit, the poet!