Dismal Incarnation

Darkness falls upon sunlight,
The wind blows a still room.
A child cries in its content,
Life is given inside a tomb.

The world turns inside out.
Screams become mild and faint.
It is the only place on earth,
Where irony becomes a saint.

It exists in heaven and hell.
This place of dark and dismal fate.
Lusting over a chance at redemption,
But, unfortunately, its far too late.

Civilization flourishes within it.
Human beings exist but cannot be real.
This haven for the unholy,
This crypt of the surreal.

The intangible exist in dreams,
Karma, love, rage and desire.
Within it we search for enlightenment.
However, only narcotics make it higher.

If I could destroy it I would,
But I fear for what comes next.
So I sit in this discomfort,
I sit... Perplexed.

For my sanity hides within it,
A phantom beneath my frontal lobe.
It patiently haunts my existence,
Taunting me as I wander this globe.

I am the puppet of my own reality,
Invisible strings and an incarnated core.
For we all exist in my imagination,
But I dont want to imagine anymore...

(c) Jacob M Parnell