Dawns Grace

Morbidly Insane;
Patently Inane;
Perpetually Mundane….
Staring into this darkness
Until morning came.

Racing turmoil
Of my mind.
Casting shadows,
That grip and bind.

Misdirection and time:
Askew and upside down.
Within this chamber,
‘Round and around.

Cold and sweaty,
About to drown.
Came up for air,
None to be found.

Frantically fighting
What is not there….
Nightmares of the past
Or ghosts of tomorrow’s snare?