Walking, through, life on soft blades
In meadows, imagined, air from corn fields
Waiting, abroad, myself in light contemplation
This world is my world, alone, to live in it
By my rules.
Walking, within, life on hard sticks
In pastures, around, falsehoods of slight rigor
Fleeing, outside, myself in another world
This world replaces my world, consuming it
By erroneous rules.
I flee from sunsets fading, oceans blinking
Why is my world, changing into a static screen
A light in the haze blinks off and on, a crimson light
This world, my world, they consume each other
And I can't find my way home.
A blinking red light.