The Tyranny of Imagination

The story beckons you ceaselessly, into a world obscured
Where truths you learn are never born
You’ve fallen behind yourself, conjuring any cure
For suffering and bitter scorn
Yet you’ve never seen answers arising
Helplessly they appear and they guide you down
Your story mercilessly takes hold of your reality
And places it just out of reach
You can almost taste the second that you are living in
But the scentless core is too plain to seek
There is terror in the horizon
Sailing into its depths, you should try to hide
Timidly you strive into the distance where the unknown beckons you
Cowardly you hide inside the future where despair is not yet true
The blood inside your eyes is ink inside your pen
You’ll never see anything or anyone again
The crack inside your mind is filled with all your dreams
Imagination gleams and silences nature’s scream
If every syllable won’t rhyme, the panic rises over time
Truth has beckoned and you’ve become its slave
You feel the portal to the next world forming somewhere in your head
Slowly you unlearn any notion of death
Inside
Inside
Inside
You’ve been told that death was when the whole world came to naught
But what becomes of death when all the world withers into thought?