A vision of the dark comes to me
but I know not what it means
In the deepest black of nothing
I hear their silent screams

I am the only one that sees
the insanity of their schemes
For they are me and I am them..
the voices, the thoughts, the dreams

The insights they did reveal to me
... nothing is as it seems
Illusions of a life worth living...
gifted to me in dreams

And so I wake from fitful sleep,
A mind filled with disjointed scenes
of butterflies and shrouded hope
for a life falling apart at the seams

Penned by my hand on the 7th of Ultio, in the year 404 AD.