They know I’m here
They hunt me, and I hide
I crawl through vents to evade
Into shadows, I must fade

I sneak and slip around
Hoping to remain unfound
Ducking through hallways
And living like a fall leaf

I am already dead
Feverish thoughts are only fed
Searching in misty buildings
I wish they would find and kill me

Suffering is living like a virus
No death for me, that is too pious
Here I crawl through grey vents
Not dead, but living is too tense

Imitating the intoxication of dreams
My fragile form wanders through
Foggy hallways and crowded streets
Stumbling over everything as I move

My pursuers let my ego starve
Until I fall upon a wall to carve
My last thought that makes sense
Then my spirit to heaven is lent

I wake…
I wake up

I think…
I can’t think
What is thought?
Where am I?

In the grey hallway again
The room begins to slow its spin
On the floor, I’m laying down
Staring at a sad ceiling that is brown

My scribbled garble is still there
How much time has passed?
Not much, that I am aware
I cannot move, but I must last

It all comes again into focus
I have again my animus
But where have the hunters been?
I have to leave now. I must flee.

Crippled by dread, I walk
No vox of mine will talk
I must be quiet, hide away
I fade into walls, and all is the same

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