#WritcoPoemPrompt118
Endless highways of misdirected means,

To walk along the lonely street of dreams,

To live in a world where nothing is as it seems,

And take pursuit of pleasure to extremes,

The crackle of life as it is,

mellowed down by the jut of uncertainty,

cruelty rewards are unable to reach the extremity,

of the dreams lively plains,

the coerce of roughness is hard to find,

as the maze of pleasure draws me to it's side,

the linings of the atmosphere ripples slightly,

hinting at the darkened mass, barely,

the bustle of towns and cities undertake another key,

streaming with a different musical niece,

everything seems to look so wrong,

as I wretch away from the dirty hounds,

reality suddenly feels like bliss,

as the dream lift it's mist,

the creep crawlies lines my back,

as I jump out of the hypocritical dream.
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