I'm getting estranged by this feeling in my brain,
Or is it inside my stomach?
I don't really know and I don't think it matters,
The floating orbs across my eyes,
Begin to take form and bleed across my vision,
Could the world be coming to an end?
It feels too real to be true.

Divided between heard and brain,
I will try to fly away,
But until my dying days I'll be afraid.