You accidentally slipped in purple ink and died
Because you were busy pacing, too preoccupied
Chewing nervously on the end of your dented Biro
Accentuating every last thought with a sigh hitherto
.
Upon waking and discovery, you jolt in a dazed state
Your dirt-beaten striped sneakers noisily squeaking
As you dusted yourself and held your awaiting fate
You began your unlikely journey and start travelling
.
Wandering lost upon a forestry of a wildlife mind
Every thick foliage a verdant idea finely efflorescing
Every path an untraced road of the life you left behind
Crushed carmine blossoms plucked away and wilting
.
No sense of direction. Where are you? The lunar ostentation
Pierces into your amour-propre, setting it blindingly alight
With your foolish absurdity, in bland starless observations
Of the complacent monsters you've yet to encounter and fight
.
Chasing after creeping vineyards, when their wine is parched
Do you understand? They've nothing left to give your thirsty soul
A paucity of the former, this broken forest you vainly marched
What's the endgame to this latent excuse of a failing goal?
.
Your sanity has turned upon yourself, hordes of screaming demons
That reach for your insatiable hunger, in a lusting of the brain stem
Where's the exit? Where's the exit? You attempt vainly yet stumble, gone
Reaching for the light at the end of the tunnel as they devour your lumen
.
Consciousness prods at your eyes, the form of an almost irritating light
Hear an alarm of a beeping machine like a metronome and salty liquid
Your head shall be fine, you'll recover, doctors assure your ghastly sight
Their placated shiny smiles of false relief dripping disgustingly insipid
.
You accidentally slipped in purple ink, hit your head, and yet surprisingly survived
They said it was a nice miracle, but then again, the Vatican fabulists love a good lie
For the creatures slopped their saliva all over your cerebrum, infecting you thereon
Think it a ludicrous story? Dear, you should've seen that slimy ink you stepped upon.
YOU ARE READING
Oneirology
Poetry♦♦♦ Oneirology: the study of dreams. Dreary reality intertwined with nuances of dreamy phantasm; for when my quill is spitting iridescent rainbow mirages instead of murky ink puddles. ♦♦♦