Withdrawal In a Dream

How different this place this sanctuary feels, here inside one’s head. Where insidious illusions fondle a subvert mind, and obscenities resonate within the confusion, when fidgety creatures, assume guardianship of my preternatural situation, scurry around my space, creating lattice of fabrication across the quaking ceiling. My imagination becoming their fodder, my perception their power, my tenacity their strength, before spinneret interweaves segregation of my day and night. Bollocks! To the physician of eastern promise, he that controls this nightmare, drip feeding diurnal poison to this empathy lost within an advocated paradox! “Yet surely I have no need of hatred, now I am confined within a fragment of one’s dream.” A genus of warmth; yet a confused state of perplexity that knows no boundaries, where bloodstain walls survey me, incessant shadows dance in gutless sunlight, and radical rays anoint me with “Hope and religion.” I call out to Rock’n’roll! Sammy Turner gives me an impetuous rendering of “Lavender Blue.” Then I see an old man struggling with his own situation. Touched I call out. “Are you ‘Jesus Christ?” He scans my inquiring mind. He senses I’m an imposter, he raises one finger affords me two words! Both of one demystified syllable! © Harry J Horsman 2010