If It Didn't Happen, Then Why Can I Remember It?
Demons fill the night, lauging light
and the light burns in my head.
Screaming out to me
calling me, from the dead.
Symphony of pain, yet again,
and blood spatters angry red,
against the pristine
white skin of the lamb.
Things born inside of me, fuzzy dream?
Visions from the deepest hell,
hazy memory?
but blood leaves stains, rotting smells.
This room smells of sweat and fear, i was here,
look around and things remind
never dig too deep,
afraid of what i will find.
Echoes bouncing down the halls, and off of walls.
but begging cries fall on deaf ears.
Too real to be dreams.
and lucid dream state ever nears.
