I am trapped,
I can't nap.

I would like to fly,
Up in the sky,
With the birds,
Or in a herd,
Of sly gazelle,
Who cannot tell,
If their blank cell,
Is crafted by their jailer,
Or if they are the tailor.

The smell engulfing,
I want to die,
I cannot breathe,
Or think,
Or stand,
Or sit,
Or lie.

I am trapped,
In my body,
And my mind.

I feel as if,
We will never arrive.

If I die before the end,
And others live on,
To journey on,
Until the adventure ends,
Which then is the true end,
To an ambling existence?

Which side shall I awake upon?
A mortal march towards death,
Or an immortal stroll through eternity?