Burrowed intimately in my own sedacious eclipse,
I awake mid day, soaking up our heavy and expected frivolities.
As I sip from my cup, the soft silk slithers down my throat.
Unable to sustain a direct state of such, it eats at me like a disease.
The tingeling heat that wraps around my tired lips, ignites the yearn of more.
With each bat of black beneath my eyes, I shiver as I am endowed by everything that it yours.

Take me.

Here I exist, cowering underneath this monstrosity.
Each breath a constant reminder I am still alive.
Wiping the liquid nerves from my quivering hands.
Wanting to slip away between the deafening cracks.
Swallowing my last drop of reality, a harsh cold sting.
There is no turning back now.

Here again,
At the gates of my demise.
Back too soon.
Drowning ever so slowly.
Wanting to turn back,
To start over again.
Irreversible inclinations.
Constant fury.
Breathe,
Tomorrow is a new day.

My breathe encapsulated with shards of excruciation, I am not inclined to understand the distorted vengeance that is beneath me, something greater than I lurks with a suffocating aura tormenting everything that is weak enough to where the cloak of demons. Do not entice beings in the underworld, leave them to face their own revelation, when the walls start to crumble on their fickle minds that are soaked in an ill-instrinsic fiction dream world that will never happen, because they will always be the ones poisoned by him.

terribly impatient,
waiting to conquer the world,
always wanting something better,
stopping to admire,
the world burning in flames,
which path do I follow,
who will I be today,
getting lost in the night sky,
remembering I have you,
throughout this point of havoc,
this next step of life,
before you make the leap,
the leap to the other side,
the side of reality,
that you have yet to achieve,
designed to survive,
eyes open,
day dreaming,

Go.

There I was grounded to the base of my domain,
Arms at my side, motionless but heart still beating.
My mind not aware of the totality that exists beyond me.
Pursuing this innate ability to momentarily erase my existing conscience,
But it would still be readily accessible once the drums ensue.
I try to escape my dearest demons, running through their fictitious maze,
The the trumpets sound, my calling is now.
The jarring ache of the percussion vibrates through my half awake mind.

I am awake.