As I write sometimes - from a subconscious place - these words appear, then I shape them into something semi-coherent and hit the Save and Publish button. In other words; it's not a conscious, personal reality, so don't be... too concerned.
Confusion
within the twisting phantoms of your mind
 you rewind
 turbulently
 grateful 
 of respite
 glad to see the night
 come closer to its end
 where you can fend
 those demons once more
 
 the light of day tells you
 puts spells on you
 confirms the lie
 while you wait to lie
 once again in your bed of horrors
 nor there will you find those mirrors
 that ease you
 with the reflections of delusion
 a comforting intrusion
 
 and this game you play goes on
 every breath of agony 
 you hold on
 nor sense will bring you calm
 while embalmed 
 in this pyramid 
 of fear
 you can’t hear
 the voice that wants to save you
 
 for with birth your life was written
 family
 never forgiven
 not an inch they gave to you
 as they also
 plagued
 by humanity’s brew
 gave you your path
 and the deadly aftermath
 of confusion
Poetry by Eli

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Written on 2011-03-02 at 06:11
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		John Ashleigh | 
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		Morpheus | 
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