A purple overlaying red,
no stop sign in this road of dread,
a feeling so deep it has no end,
ever so sharp fantasies of this dreamland.

A time counts every alternative of me
as my head is rested in a complex dream,
I watch some parts of me disappear
as my watch chimes that farewell is near.

I can't tell the difference from what's real
although it's vivid, a meaning is not revealed.
The dust has settled on the path so clear
concealing it from something more than a fear.
© poetofdeath