I want to walk out of this treacherous maze.

It’s hard to breathe,

Because bombs keep hitting my infused head

And bursting my brain every

Time I assemble fractured pieces.

Ashes burn darker and the flames glow brighter.

The more I run,

The angrier the world becomes,

And the harder I fall.

My emotion is rain,

The blisters inside my clanking soul.

Shield me from convalescent scars that eat me up.

For towering over me are the bumps and bruises

That have warped my mind.

Acid visions haunt jaded depths

Of my subconscious dessert.

Spiked trance eats up marshes within cloudy mirrors.

For this is the cognate dance of elusive operatives

Honing in on my fading existence.