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Apr 19
when Tom first walked in Limbo
he had drunk a load of gin
passed out with legs akimbo
he was drooling on his chin

the vision came with sound and smell
that felt entirely real
a twilight woodland short of Hell
with textures he could feel

then riding on the bus from work
fatigue would overwhelm
and send him where the spirits lurk
inside that nether realm

the image came to such extent
it left Tom with no doubt
Limbo Land was where he went
each time that he passed out

every night and sometimes day
around those woods he hiked
and once he found he knew the way
he went there when he liked

he'd wake each morn and fantasise
this world was kept at bay
and mesmerise and hypnotise
the sun to stay away

then clinging to the sandman's hand
he'd count a few more sheep
to slip back into Limbo Land
where he belonged: asleep

that limbo world of dark and light
that's stitched around life's seams
hid between the day and night
and conscious thought and dreams

with gloomy skies, no sun to warm
just forests lit cold blue
a place where dusk shades are the norm
or daybreak's overdue

and every time he came to rest
that scene would play once more
so each time further he'd progress
and deeper he'd explore

of Limbo very little's known
but from glimpses Tom had stole
it’s where the trees of life are grown
and in each trunk a soul

there's mossy faces set in bark
and limbs reach to the sky
from knotty mouths, a message- stark
"you come here when you die"

so many times that wood he'd seen
he came to understand
all he'd become and all he'd been
was growing in that land

his lifespan told across tree rings
and written through the grain
with all he was and all the things
he'd surely do again

his future though he could not gauge
but one thing surely true
no turn in fortunes could assuage
the pain life put Tom through

the life where nothing went as planned
was growing in that field
and frankly more than he could stand
to know his fate was sealed

to come again would be a waste
to live the same life through
so narcolepsy he embraced
to fall asleep on cue

he'd enter in that world he'd found
and lucid dream a saw
then cut his tree down to the ground
reincarnate no more

"I'll chop my tree down into planks
and make them what I please
another life for Tom? no thanks,
no more bad memories"

he'd burn the bark that wore his face
the branches, leaves and roots
and smash each acorn just in case
it cursed him with a shoot

and then the time I saw Tom last
I asked how things were going
he told  'Limbo’s just so vast
with new trees always growing'

and now he never leaves his head
Tom’s bed ridden and ill
he's comatose but not brain dead,
just searching Limbo still.
The X Rhymes
Written by
The X Rhymes  49/M
(49/M)   
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