Untitled.

Sleep goes the the dreamer
Maybe its only silence
I suspect it a trick
But with nothing to decode
He must be sick and dying, life is so cold
Told to give up and do a kindness

Lungs do inflame
Voice does scratch
heart needs a new patch
in comforting arms I still feel cold
Death long before he was old

What is the lesson
the end isn't rough
can it be enough
Bury the dead
next to the worms
give them a new home to roam and squirm

Like a child I cover myself with a blanket
Go to my preferred reality and truth
Expecting to see you there
It's only me, where were you?
The rain burns away
the false pretense
what is left is truth
with no signs of return
I have to stop running and return home
I have to deal with what I found was real
It's not a dream, I'm not the goer