Lost between the squalid scene
of sadness, blood and death the
dream surrounds.
Waking, shaking in the night
forsaken absence of sunlight
abounds.
Silence lingers in the dark
a sudden flash, electric spark
enlightens.
In the shade the lemonade
trickles down the colonnade
sublime.
Knowing that it isn’t real the
morning sun cannot conceal
delusion.
Walking, talking, life and
death, reality is only an
illusion