Torn twisting through a nonsense dream,

no places left to turn.

Deafened by the echo of mind speak,

struck dumb by words I can't learn.



Strangled by the hands of future guess,

tortured deep on the inside of me.

Dealing through a deck of memories,

photographs of all that can't be.



Flicker frame fear, conscience on a toggle,

panoramic everything pushing on me.

Stuck floating through ports of my past,

daylights' lost beacon, this mixed up sea.



Trapped in the dark room with the memory mob,

midnight malice in the shadows of sleep.

Paranoia projector, slide show sweat,

Lifetime Productions Co. I watch till I weep.



Phil Stewart Jan 2011