I feel like an image in a Salvador Dali, painting.
Dripping off the edges of a surrealistic reality.
The Dream, - She has left me behind - a nightmare.
My spirit in an altered state of reality.
Reality melting all around, within me.
My life's clock ticking away, running out of time.
I find myself among those wretched Souls,
Screaming Souls, huddled together in mass misery
Clawing, reaching up in a desperate attempt to escape
The hell fires of Dante's Inferno.
Hands of my clock, limp, impotent, melting.
Time runs off their tips like tear drops,
Into the dark depths of eternal Dreams.
Dreams, that have her own realities.
Reality has no Dream, for me.
B. J. "A" 2
October 10th 2010