Blurred Senses

Spinning the wheel, the reaper misses
A spectral hand pulls and kisses,
With poison lips and endless throat,
Drags you from a lifeless boat
To a place that reeks of bad sanitation
Blessed it’s all in my imagination
Suppose it’s real? but distant are my senses
Anxiety guards take charge, barriers and high fences,
To grasp back the fearing constant scream,
That causes nerves, if only a dream
Tosses and turns, fashions the body to react
If it’s in all our head, is our heads intact?
I see, hear, touch and occasionally feel
Thoughts are thoughts, whys this so real?
Stood still in the cold, wear wet as a crown
Eyes glare at fill line, gaping to drown
Wake up you fool, no more I can bare!
Reality hits of the still waking nightmare.

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