Comatose

The tick-tocking explodes in my ears.

Day mares happen that recognize fears.

I see nothing, but blackness ahead.

Am I sleeping or could I be dead?

Conscience cell-blocks, keep me in a daze.

Time-woven collars, steady my gaze.

Cold sweat runs down my neck,

My mind is a disproportional wreck.

Each second a day in itself.

My sanity a marble, rolling to the edge of the shelf.

Waiting to be lost,

In this world,

A maze.

Hoping I will be lifted out of this phase.

By some kind of angelic force.

I’m doing nothing, just sitting, waiting,

Listening to the cadence, silently fading.

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