Confusion's delusions speak to me
of the fog of truth and lies.
Infused and bemused with images hard to deny
head on my pillow steeped in dreams.
Contusion's conclusion slip through the night
pulled by golden-winged angels.
Belied and unidentified in obtuse angles
head on my pillow sleeping through the night.
Persecution's deversions dance in the night
leaving me cold as ice.
dispersed and dispirited in a land of make believe
head on my pillow stalking my dreams.
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