deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Bug-Eyed Realm
With tree branches waving
and leaves dangling for their lives,
this setting had me excited,
I get to open my mind.
Create a world where I become
a bug-eyed zombie staring;
window blinds pulled wide open.
Just as fast as I felt my eyes burning,
I start hearing silent chimes.
Its slight lit appearance
is only to trick the eye.
You look past that,
along with the shadows
plastered on the sign.
My left behind stunned body
like a zombie, still has all feelings
and if I choose to move, I’d do so just fine.
Like a ghost I can float, but only with my eyes.
Forced into a dimension
that I convince myself is real.
I feel my body not moving: stiff as hell.
The wind is gusting and whirling
into this poorly weatherized house.
Matching what I’m hearing
with chiming demonic shouts.
Drawn to made up creatures and figures,
I question myself, “am I real?”
The friendly hi...
And "come here" finger branch
waves with gestures of secrets to tell.
Black mistic shadow bodies
that appear to be resurrecting from the dead.
Two; one pulling on the other.
The dead killing the dead.
I, too, say this is my imagination...
But I like this place, this realm
is always so lonely being one of the only
known visionaries that prefers hanging by the head.
My vision is my guidance
for seeing and seeking things
that most people can only capture
in their sleep.
Left with nothing but a deteriorating memory,
my wake-screamings deter eating a bad dream.
With tortured true living beings that are full of rage.
More questioning fake to reality.
Drug into the bug-eyed realm.
Flickering on the sign from a light,
resurrecting my imagination for the night.
- Sabrina
and leaves dangling for their lives,
this setting had me excited,
I get to open my mind.
Create a world where I become
a bug-eyed zombie staring;
window blinds pulled wide open.
Just as fast as I felt my eyes burning,
I start hearing silent chimes.
Its slight lit appearance
is only to trick the eye.
You look past that,
along with the shadows
plastered on the sign.
My left behind stunned body
like a zombie, still has all feelings
and if I choose to move, I’d do so just fine.
Like a ghost I can float, but only with my eyes.
Forced into a dimension
that I convince myself is real.
I feel my body not moving: stiff as hell.
The wind is gusting and whirling
into this poorly weatherized house.
Matching what I’m hearing
with chiming demonic shouts.
Drawn to made up creatures and figures,
I question myself, “am I real?”
The friendly hi...
And "come here" finger branch
waves with gestures of secrets to tell.
Black mistic shadow bodies
that appear to be resurrecting from the dead.
Two; one pulling on the other.
The dead killing the dead.
I, too, say this is my imagination...
But I like this place, this realm
is always so lonely being one of the only
known visionaries that prefers hanging by the head.
My vision is my guidance
for seeing and seeking things
that most people can only capture
in their sleep.
Left with nothing but a deteriorating memory,
my wake-screamings deter eating a bad dream.
With tortured true living beings that are full of rage.
More questioning fake to reality.
Drug into the bug-eyed realm.
Flickering on the sign from a light,
resurrecting my imagination for the night.
- Sabrina
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