Chimeric and illusory
My vision a child
Eyes full of wonder
Hope is like light
In the dark of possibility

Begging from fates
Befriended by muses
Lips gone cold early
Strangers sleep in my bed

Seeing behind
Is a trick and no magic
Belief is a construct
Alone in our minds

Demons rage and rotate
From pole to pole to pole
Further destroying the field
Laying me bare to the sun

Where all of my doubts
Become memory's bad dreams
And morning reveals that I'm usually still
Quiet
Alone