Fragments of time,
Numbing my mind,
It grips my body,
Keeps me behind,
And lost in the mirror,
I see a disguise,
That’s hiding the hurt found deep in my eyes,
A veil,
A trail,
To lead to the pain,
The light,
A fight,
To keep me sane,
Trying to breathe,
Trying to think,
Then it all draws back,
I pause,
I blink,
Safe for now,
No longer a track,
No longer a trace of the panic attack.

The emperor’s dinner was served.
Finally cooked fresh fish tonight.
And when the emperor had finished,
He felt perfectly alright.

Later the emperor felt queasy.
The pain in his chest was dull.
As he fell in a faint,
His stomach was unbearably full.

The emperor lay on the ground.
Trying to breathe with all his might.
In the end all he could do
Was accept he could see the light.

As the emperor lay dying
And contemplating his fate.
Servants raced to find the poisoned food.
But alas, they wouldn’t. It was the plate.