Drifting Shadows in Walking Dreams

I cannot disjoin the lucid from the unsystematic cognitions I lie trapped outside, forced to spectate my very own existence And somehow at the same time locked inside and intertwined Pieces that will not fit together Forced into place they bow then break Spiraling waves of confusion Purity and pollution Clarity and delusion Interaction and seclusion Hunted like a witch by the tireless hounds of a faceless parasite The cold sour moon gives up its seat to the suffocating sunlight I try not to breathe As I hide beneath the bleeding, crawling ground I can smell their breath, I can feel their eyes I am so close to being found Pieces that will not fit together It was dark when I fell apart I walk in between what is real and what is a dream It was dark when I fell apart.