Psychedelisia

Psychedelisia

This caco-phony,

This clutter around,

I go into my cocoon,

With my moving surrounds,

Me and my music, is all that I live,

For moments filled with eternal bliss,

And then this head aches,

Of withdrawal symptoms too loud,

I need my drug, the clock shouts out,

My body too fragile, can collapse at you,

Don’t come near me,

I need my flashily dark sleep sans you,

The peace so restful, I have no clue,

What happened in my dream?

Waking, bizarre, dreaming, a blankitude,

The worn out eyes open blankly,

Not willing to live,

Nor give ‘life’ it’s due,

So the fan moves mercilessly,

Coz it can’t stop, Can you?

And in this moment,

I wish I had a lover,

Who would kill this life,

In a grayish black red of tones,

Liberation, emancipation, freedom,

From this life’s cocoon….

As I rise from my shack,

A tranquil one to be,

I step the “other world”

Entering the same monotony,

And the hammer hits my head,

People talk too much,

Me and my psychedelisia,

Yes! I’m a living dead…..