Chaos

Based on a dream I had and now put onto a poem

When I do something I finish it

the consequences are to be feared

my consequence is nothing like a pit

when i made a creation smeared

Would it help to grab that offering hand

But what happens if they turn to sand

"I killed them" that's what i thought

and yet here I am in the perfect spot

Expecting the murder as I will kill

the stage rolls out with a blink

players all a lined ready to act or sink

you know what they say no keep still

But they all start to run away

faster faster like a merry go round

I shall strike without a sound

my weapon served as a dish a silver tray

Is this me or is this a so called play

waking up from this would sure make my day

I feel like I'm in a box 

Slowly losing my breath repeating a paradox

My life has no freedom

item I don't have to call mine

alone in a windowless room just to hum

I talk to people but that's a dine

Will i ever be freed by anyone's ownership or am I a puppet 

Just fulfill my on ends

To what reason was I for 

Someone help this unwanted soul

Author's Note

THis is fiction as always