I feel my mind is slowly lifting
Through hidden doors dark shades are drifting
Last ghosts of quickly fading dreams
Retreating forms of silent screams
In momentary silence lying
With unseen nightmare spectres dying
My drowsy sleep-thick mind is idling
Why is the air so warm and stifling?
I open up my eyes to see
But all is black, how can this be?
How can there be no shred of light?
My god, could I have lost my sight?
Why do I feel so stiff and sore?
Why am I lying on the floor?
So hard to move my arms from rest
Why are they folded on my chest?
I raise my hand to test eyes flawed
My knuckles graze against rough board
My elbows knock restricting sides
With horror then I realise
Like half-remembered memories
Nghtmarish echoes surge with ease
From dark recesses of my brain
Where they were locked to save me pain
I hear the grieving mourners moaning
The distant solemn voice is droning
Of how life can be so unjust
Ash to ash and dust to dust
But these spectres are from no dream
No-one can hear but still I scream
My heart is filled with icy dread
They’ve buried me, BUT I`M NOT DEAD!