PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Slowly began to remember

I had gone back to "my quiet room"

No place for me to really be

The vision was almost there



I looked around for good measure

I knew I was going to leave soon

With cold static, I couldn't see

But the vision was almost there



My head was at hot temperature

Pulsating, ready to explode like a balloon

Dark apparitions portraying faces of me

I was figuring out how to get out of here



For once I regain conscience with the pressure

Finally, I escape this heavenly prepared tomb

No smell, no sight...soul free

Still, that vision was almost there



That vision, of trying to see myself in distorted weather

That view of actually being woken by a mental kaboom

Many mind photos, not knowing which is real or to believe

That vision, of noticing if I was actually anywhere