In the well of my mind, is a voice.
A voice not entirely my own.
Beckoning me to travel deeper,
Within my own subconscious.
Though, if I listen,
I come to a place wholly unfamiliar.
Seemily outside the bounds
Of my own thought or reason.
And the voice says to me,
"Come now just a little deeper.
You are so close to seeing the truth,
With the scales peeled from your eyes."
Never have I seen
What comes after these words.
I always wake up in a sweat,
As if my body itself wishes to spare me
From some long forsaken iniquity,
That resides only within
The dark recesses of the mind.
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
In the well of my mind, is a voice.
A voice not entirely my own.
Beckoning me to travel deeper,
Within my own subconscious.
Though, if I listen,
I come to a place wholly unfamiliar.
Seemily outside the bounds
Of my own thought or reason.
And the voice says to me,
"Come now just a little deeper.
You are so close to seeing the truth,
With the scales peeled from your eyes."
Never have I seen
What comes after these words.
I always wake up in a sweat,
As if my body itself wishes to spare me
From some long forsaken iniquity,
That resides only within
The dark recesses of the mind.
