I dream of a dream that dreams of me
Though this dream is not what it seems.
I've been here before, but something is different.

The sky is an awkward shade of miserable.
The land scorched by fire and hate,
Raining pain and fear from the clouds.
The forest has a treacherous aroma to it.

A girl sits on a mushroom, just out of arms reach from me.
I cannot recall if she has been here the entire time.
I ponder for a moment, just a second
To see if this is a memory.
A memory I have found
Or a memory that has found me.
She turns around swiftly, and I see her eyes
Those emerald eyes peering through hair of nightmare.

She tells me the Queen lost her head.
She tells me the Hatter is no longer mad.
She tells me the Cheshire lost his grin.
She tells me the Door Mouse lost his pocket watch.
She tells me the White Rabbit has a new color.
Oh Alice, what has this memory done to you?

Her dress is stained with blood.
Her hand wields a knife dripping in triumph.
Her demented, derelict smile is twisted and eerie,
Yet her eyes, her eyes are so alluring.

Fear has escaped me.
Hope has abandoned me.
The shackles of truth remain.
The reflection of myself in the red stained waters is not of mine.
It is of who I've hidden away.
She holds her hand out, and my decision made for me.
She brings me in close, brings her blood lust lips to my humble ear
And her whisper strikes me to my bones.
“This is not the Wonderland that used to await beneath the rabbit hole”