Dementia’s Wakemare

I thought that last Friday
Was this Tuesday
But it actually turned out to be
Wednesday night

And while I sit here
Contemplating oblivion
Pondering infinitum
And seeking to disprove
Popular theorem
I am confronted
With a swirling cloud
Of disbelief

I know nothing of everything
Something of nothing
Nothing of something
And everything just might be bleak

Perplexity seeps into my brain
From various design
Forcing me to lie
Lest I appear to have fear
Rooted deep in my eye
The myriad of colour
Beset on all sides
Tells me I’m confused

What is this piece of glass
And who is that man
Standing within it
If I attack him
My hands bleed
And falling shards of reality
Impale my throbbing feet
That bleed out upon the floor

I rue the emptiness innate
And ruin all we’ve created
Imprisoned in this nightmare
I live to regret my life’s wakemare
As the space becomes ever smaller
Consciousness gives way to confusion
Confusion confronts sanity
Insanity acquiesces to dementia

 

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