Slipping, slipping, my attention absorbed
my senses cuts short on this feverish hour
isolated feelings their target in sight
like a puppet on strings as i put up a fight
dreaming by day,a lost soul by night
is there anyone who cares that will walk by my side.
The archer takes aim, he has never missed once
no blink in his eyes, no shake in his stance
these arrows of thoughts, pointedly sharp
cut deep like razors as they gouge out their mark
a curtain is drawn, my vision now impaired
memories of innocence now so distant and rare.
Lost in a maze,times labyrinth i now gaze
attention drifting in and out,a gasping intake through my mouth
no armor to defend, there coming with no end
then another arrow strikes ,the bones it strips of skin
drifter, drifter, but who are you now?
A formidable question,but to answer oh how!
DRIFTER,THINKER, who are you now?
You are watching me shout!
but the WATCHER!!!!!
can he be found?
..............a presence arises, a messenger of peace
can you see yourself seeing without the thinker in place?
