C - Coma

Come closer, the canvas collapsed This clairvoyant contains no confidence Constant creative calamity clouds his clarity, continuously complicating his collective From conscientious to cataleptic Cooped up, closed off in his cranium Centuries and centimeters continue and contort, constantly trying to keep count; counting the clicks of his center clock A creator, now a captive; cut off from his countless colors- his core gets colder and colder The conscious consensus has been cleaved, captured in his comatose cocoon His chi calls out to consult Without complaint or coercion, he is calm in his current conundrum Conjuring a circumventing counter to this circumstantial change Comfortable in his corporeal cathedral, catapulted through his cerebral cosmos His life cannot cease