Swallow lakes of onyx consume
my breath, as I lie asphyxiated
beyond the waking moments.

I'm drowning with the perspiration
of what clings to my eyelids.
Like cement clinging onto the fluttering
of still eyes sinking deeper from the shore.

Where I was once in the realm of cognitive
sleep, I fall deeper into the shallow
graves of that cling to my slumbering mind.

Have you fallen into a place that makes even
your breath chilled. Could you climb that
ledge of despair as your being consumed
by the fear of never finding a path from darkness