Here comes night
I, tortured
Fighting sleep again
Which becomes
Too familiar
To the demon, Death
And falling, falling
Memories lost to a trickling end
But alive outside the reaches
Of the outer realms beyond me
Lost sense of self
Obliterated by the varied roles
In dynamic technicolor
Steadily played like
Keys on a Casio.
Everything is melodic until…
Every key harmonizing
Crescendoing into tones of doom
Who am I this time?
Time the illusionist
With it comes lessons learned
Titled the best trickster
The foe and if grasped right
The fiend that swallows
All semblance of your sanity
Fruition's Fiction Factory 