You're Disturbed

You're disturbed, I know it's absurd... but you're disturbed

And am I fine? I'm of a sound that's mine and sound of mind

Although the sound sounds like words, like I should turn an eye blind

Turn a blind eye? Or was it blind a turned eye, turn an eye blind?

So is it the right one, or wrong? But it can't be wrong, so I touch it

Try to pinch and pluck it, as I gasp and groan and whisper 'fuck it!'

So I fucking GOUGE it out! And I scream and fucking shout!...

'Eye spy, with my evil eye!' And it's looking back at me, but I can't see

So I SMASH !T, against the mirror (pop) and crack goes your cranny and nook

But you don't give a fuck, you just give me a bloody hook, line and sinker

And you're still staring, in fragmented reflection, a bloody one eyed blinker

You're disturbed, for now I can hear you snigger, as you pull the fucking trigger

But there're no winners here, just me the sinner's here, as someone once said...

'If thy right eye fucking offends thee... then fucking pluck it out!'

I SCREAM! and gouge, digging deeper into what's left, until the lights go out...

And now you've gone, but this blinding agony can't be right, for it feels so wrong

But you're still preying on my mind, a third and eye, the butchered bloody blind

In my head I know you're not dead, or alive, you're disturbed, it's absurd, I'm...

...disturbed, so I dig deeper and deeper, 'til I find my mind, my cerebral cortex

As I follow you into the empty nothingness, of the infinite vortex

It's Where Unicorns Die

In the inner space of yew and weeping willows and of oaks of wonder

Threadbare shifting light and the drifting shadows, of a mind asunder

'tis where every reverie waits, conjured by the lens of a phantom eye

So serenely alluring, but the dream is bait, for it's where Unicorns die

Will-o'-the-wisp creeps, from the miasmic marsh, onto the forest floor

Hiding its secretive undergrowth in a sidling, luminous shroud of hoar

Enchanted woodland, where the illusive fairies might choose to dwell

Regales in the unreality, of those lost in the trees, with tall tales to tell

Expectancy prevails, with a distant din, beyond the murmurous leaves

Under its spell you're lured, to where only the subconscious perceives

Never lingering for long, for in the sham of the day it's a virtual dream

In the chthonic hours though, the nightmares have an insidious theme

Charmed by the idyllic pretence, but now the unseeable sun is setting

On the fading forest floor the hunt is on and your palms are sweating

Run and hide, for you will need an elusion, now the illusion is fraught

Nothing sane rides in the night, 'cept for the passing of an oneironaut

Stampeding white mares crash onto barbed blades, in concealed pits

Driven to their death, by hagridden wranglers at the end of their wits

In the eerie enchanted forest, where will-o'-the-wisp will eternally lie

Escape if you can, for in the bleakest reverie, it's where Unicorns die