Life's an illusion.
A facade of actions.
So to sleep, I'm bidden.
And from friends I hasten,
Towards self-destruction.
I think.
I feel.
And yet it all seems unreal.
I blink.
I breathe.
But beneath, turmoil seethes.
The brink,
I face.
And failing, to repose I race.
I shrink.
I shun.
But it's from myself I run.
I sink.
I rend.
And into oblivion I descend.