I feel my head rolling to side, involuntarily.
However the melancholy is too good.
My senses are too warped up. And the fog rolls over.

Starting to see things that truly aren't there,
they all seem to be distorted and blurry
the substances acquire new fragrances, all fresh and unique to my nose.

My pulse is pounding right up to my skull, and I seem to scream out unclear things.
I’m thrown into a chill sweat, and everything is too sticky.

Unexpectedly the sound submerged deep inside, reaches my ears like bell ring.
My tongue has become dry making the air around, taste like smoke and blood.

Oh god, I’m stuck, locked inside myself.
Every move I make is a warning.
Threatening to prove, that I ate today.

Restless and lethargic, the sickness is plashed wave over wave.
I’ve reached upon my weary, eroded shore,
walking towards what I call a dark path.