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.