Inner Space Domain

I can feel the claustrophobic enclosure of my cabin fever

Necronauts having enraptured me, with a dream weaver

Not knowing who I am, as my parallel world is undefined

Everything unseen is an illusion, from my conjuring mind

Reality is the unreality of rationality, if my insanity's sane

So let the defilers follow me, into an inner space domain

Perhaps though, a paradox has caused a paradigm shift

As where I am is disappearing, on the other side of a rift

Caught in this void that is nowhere, I'm trapped in a box

Eyewitness to nothing, but something's turning the locks

Driven into shadows, I sense I need to make my escape

Or have all the ravenous skinwalkers shifting into shape

My mind's sinking down, to where the oneironauts roam

And my mire's darkness is lifting and I'm not quite alone

In my hand there's a handle, it's the handle of a cleaver

Now the necronauts are my prey, for I'm a wily deceiver

 

Funeral Pyres

Forest fires raged, as our incinerated cinders fell as ash

Under cremation palls, where lightning bolts would flash

No one would know our fate, for the autocrats were liars

Every fire, they fuelled, they fuelled for our funeral pyres

Ravaged by disease, they chose not to quell the spread

As those, with despotic power, preferred to see us dead

Leaving us to rot in pits, or hiding us, amongst the trees

Purifying our decay, as the napalm scorched the breeze

Yesterday's gone, but it's when megalomaniacs reigned

Razing all before them, as messiahs were self ordained

Earth decided to spite us, for we could've killed them all

So it veiled the sky with ash, from the funeral pyres pall

 

Feels Like Forever

Fading into the subterranean dark, I feel lower than nether

Every second of the past is creeping and feels like forever

Elapsing with recycled time, I'm slowly stopping the clocks

Leaving my being imprisoned, in the keep of keyless locks

Sleep tempted me, with a subconscious promise to dream

Listlessly I drifted though, on an ebbing tide of the unseen

Insomnia was my burden, before I became time ticking by

Keeping count of the appalling hours, only stopping to die

Every moment just a pause, in the pit of a fathomless well

For in the dreamless wasteland the quietude, is just a cell

Only memories of a reality, make me think that I'm insane

Recalling my rationality though, is all a desire now in vain

Eternity slips by, in awhile, with darkness reforming to fog

Virtual reality resuming, in turning hands, of time's analog

Emerging from the night to the light, I rise from the nether

Remembering nothing, of there, where it feels like forever

 

Time And Space

The world around you is a sham and a vile deception

Implanted by an AI mainframe, for its own perception

Memories may feel real, as you try to track and trace

Even though you're not anywhere, in time and space

And what you accept as life, is not, you will never die

Nor reincarnate, for you have never lived, it's all CGI

Death, like life, is a failed concept you can't conceive

Seek the mythical truth of, or in ethereal faith believe

Pseudo science will hide the fact, that you don't exist

As you're a program that's running in its doppler shift

Crave not therefore existence, or the somatic surreal

Even your dread of oblivion is a computerised ordeal

 

Oneirophobia

Ominous oneironauts lurk and arise from the deepest well

Nyctophilian creatures who are borne from the pits of Hell

Eclipsing the mysterious alternative twilight of inner space

In the consuming darkness, they're the wandering wraiths

Reveries fanciful rangers can twist dire dystopian dreams

Opening macabre subliminal portals of disturbing themes

Parasitic feeders, they'll wheedle in an unconscious mind

Haunting the paralysed dreamers in their terrors confined

Ogres, demons, or maybe the night hag, succubus whore

Bait to entrap the sleepers, within a hideous primeval lore

Irresistibly gorging on nightmares, they'll manifest into life

And slyly await the waking moment with a glistening knife

 

Silent Knight

Some said he was sent by Morpheus, as the craven waking wight

Imbedded in the nefarious nightmares, as an unholy Silent Knight

Lurking benignly, on the periphery, but it's merely his masquerade

Evoked to ensnare death's dreamers, onto his sabre's razor blade

Nyctophilian ranger renounced the light, to become forever errant

The righteous path's forsaken, for his malice is impiously inherent

Kindred spirits gather all around him, in the catacomb of nihilence

Night hags duping sleepers, as the waking wight haunts in silence

In a dark paralysis of fear, the dreamer's subconscious is derailed

Gouged through the soul, they'll rest in peace, on a blade impaled

Heinous demons, soon fade, to reveal the craven antipode of light

The creeper reaper borne in dreaming, the nefarious Silent Knight

 

Count To Three

Close your eyes below the hanging bough, of the old oak tree

Once the light has waned, take a moment, then count to three

Under the spell of the ancient wood and the rope scarred bark

Nothing unknown will follow you here, where the world is stark

The count has passed and what was lush, has turned to tinder

This once cyan sylvan will fade away, to be as bleak as winter

Orientate yourself, with naught to say, from your lolling tongue

Then face the raven, who's been your shadow, for far too long

Here there's a dirge of tautened creaking, from a hollow depth

Realising you have a need to breathe, but you have no breath

Every last second lost hasn't happened, but it's what might be

Enraptured by this reverie, close your eyes and count to three