Last night I had a
dream, so definitely
indifferent from clouds
of thought which drift
over my sober-wreaked
mind.
I squint and shake
and shiver with
movements, so
statically paralysed.
Bathed in my pit
of sweat and insanity.
To fathom these
patterns of hidden
truth, libido,
won't do one bit.
It can't cease to
become.
If I'm not careful
enough or tentatively
scarce in a midnight
screech I'll be sure to
tell the world my fears.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC
Last night I had a
dream, so definitely
indifferent from clouds
of thought which drift
over my sober-wreaked
mind.
I squint and shake
and shiver with
movements, so
statically paralysed.
Bathed in my pit
of sweat and insanity.
To fathom these
patterns of hidden
truth, libido,
won't do one bit.
It can't cease to
become.
If I'm not careful
enough or tentatively
scarce in a midnight
screech I'll be sure to
tell the world my fears.
