I'm living a sleep walker, just like you and the others.
However, and when my dreams ink turns majestic black, It suffocates me, thence I chock. Now I'm left awake behind.
Nightmares and nightmares sit on my chest each night, a chest that's hardly heaving, for anything.
For there's no hope, goals, or dreams of any kind.
Only forgetness, oblivion in your eye.
Dreams reminds you of faces, souls, places and occasions, wrongs and rights.
It slaps you, and slaps you, and slaps you, and thence?
It makes you insanely determined!
Clench your fist at the wall, get-dressed, and runaway.
Runaway from pessimistic thoughts, lies you fooled yourself with, and...
The anxiety that is taking over your mind.