Does my time come? Reaper standing blinking,
I like to think I died overthinking.
Excellent at excelling the ceiling
of believing thoughts, to life I'm breathing.
Not comfortable but familiar,
my sweeping leaving thought: 'I'm out, see ya'.

Because I've grown accustom to dwelling,
on scenarios, in my mind yelling.
Yellow bellied lizards, listing in lisp,
elder trees tapping branches. Once more! 'Tisk'
Judgment daisy is here, with it's cold cheer,
passing by plausible baubles, why here?

So that's it, gone, done, dusted, broke, busted.
Esoteric to the last, brain's rusted.
I'll join stars, atomic consolations,
constellations racing for their placings.
Childs play maybe, yay the triumph of toys?
Oh. No. I think a light wave. Yes. White noise.