" A Sneak Preveiw Of Death"

To Good to be true?
my slumber un-disturbed
a erie wasteland  
cast in a montage
of scattred black and white.
Sunlight seeps through cracks in the ice
dreams come and go like freinds in the night
liquid life distilled
somewhere the tea is getting cold
somewhere my soul has been sold.
sleep is nouthing more then a sneak preveiw of death.
oxygen flows to the brain
my pulse remains steady
my eyes flicker  
like petal's in summer,  
one eye slowley open's
and i wake up
SCREAMING!!!!