From The Lab

Flight of Fancy

Confusion is the soul's first step,
When hunting bodies free from stress,
Blood and Muscle and Bone detects
The shades of grey within the text.

The serene blankness of the vivid screen,
Where Nothing is exactly what it seems.

And no one wants to disappear,
Wide awake with old nightmares near,
Potentially, that hope for cheer,
Erodes the face with worthless tears.

Now these lessons learned can be changed if forced,
When man has wandered far off from the course.

Cloaked in silence, draped all around,
Shuts out the world, destroys all sound,
Picks up senses to drop them down,
To break the will and keep it bound.

Tied together with feelings of despair.
Drunk with power, acting without the care.