Exhausted and vacant,
as if the world we live in is so distant;
colours fade,
feelings we can't name,
hollow thoughts and cold drops of sorrow fall.
Crumbling in blissful memories,
stars die in explosive heat.
What world are we living?
Is it real or just an apparition,
the one you get from mushrooms or coca,
can you name the unexplainable?
Is it just unnamable?
Paranoia struck as if lighting,
but fire spreads so slowly,
our hope is dying.
