I see what I do,
I walk toward it too,
I fly where I stitch the new.
In this eternal dream,
I wake.
Wake up.
Sounds become feels,
The chapter spins and reels,
I watch the scenery shift and peel,
Taking the weight of what it deals.
Wake up.
I begin to see,
A cage that begs to break free,
A silent plea caught endlessly
A dance with death,
a fleeing decree.
Wake up.
Is this real?
Nothing begins to feel.
The past bleeds into the future’s seal,
Bound to a fate I can’t repeal.
Wake up.
A S̵͖̉͝o̵̡̞͓̖͊̀́ư̶̛̺̻͛̽͂̋̈n̸̝̜̖̥̓̎̆̏ḓ̶̰̥̝͕̗̟̓͑́̾̃̈̋̿̏̑ͅ?
A bed of comfort found.
A pulse that hums beneath the ground.
Or is it not so round?
Ŷ̷͍͙͚̝̈́̆͂͐̚͝͝ö̷̩̳͙̯́̿͜ͅu̵̼̘̞̳̣̓͌͐̏̔̇’̶̢̹͛͑̀̍̈́̓̐͑̈͠r̴̯̲̱͚̬͇̠̤̯̖̈́̈́͆͌̄́̊͗͋͝ė̶̟͎̭̱̓͆̋̈̾͐̈́̕ ̶̫͔̤̟̫̯̥͉́̾ǹ̷͍̉̅̓̓̆̃o̸̢͙͐̾t̴̥͆ ̷̘̖̰̯͖̘̙̂r̵̨̛̘͚̲̈̈ͅe̶͇̙̭̙̽͋͒͜ǎ̴͍̙͚̹͗͛̽̌͝l̶̤͖̇͋̽̆.̶͈̣̩̱̦̯̣͕̫̉̀̅̐̿̈́̉̚͠
