My eyes Crack like dried paper,
onto the desk at 4 am,
I'm not sure if my maker,
is a lion or a lamb,

Stuck between the present,
and the task at hand,
life is rarely pleasant,
when you can see through the sham,

I open the window, ash seeps in,
I can never duck get win,
Friends, my patience is wearing thin,
I know there's places I've been,

Not in the linear fashion of thought,
but inside the sky of my minds eye,

past, present future,
everything that can't be bought