Help me cross to make believe.
For too many days have led me astray.
With fractured moments spun and weave.
Give me chances to return a reprieve.
Sanctioned down the garden path.
In comes a vicious lash to kill.
Stare into the sun.
Burn me free.
Let the flames wash over me.
Juxtaposition forced to the fore.
Twindling thumbs but not much more.
Silence in an empty haunted cell.
Bring me a new game to cheat.
Pause for I cannot escape the beat.
Stare into the sun.
Burn me free.
Let the flames wash over me.
Xeno defines only the ill.
Poverty magnified with a chill.
Chemical signals blocked to hinder.
Oscillate my hopes and dreams.
Make my future spill pointlessly.
For I am the boss as well as the minion.
Stripped down to barely an opinion.
Not mine but that of another.
I am filled by abstract bother.
Stare into the sun.
Burn me free.
Let the flames wash over me.
Immolation from this control over my days in a blinding haze!
Simon A Jackson - Writer 