I wish I would awake, but the words in my dreams seam to bake.
Just right into one nasty stake that I ate.
Not right while awake.
The voices are sweet and negative, just because of my doctor's choices.
Now I can hear not just my dream, but the voices of all mankind's dreams
and now my mind is overloading at the seams.
Floating through dreams will make you wise, and crazy to your own demise.
Now that night, I knew I was finally going to lose the battle.
To contain a human- like mantle.
If I'd ever awake again, I go back into time to stop this from happening all from which
it began.
The endless sleep ascended and became anything but deep, and now I realize it was dream
created from mankind beams. So now I can not go back to sleep, or I'm afraid I'll descend
to deep.
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This poem is about a person dreaming about being treated for a sleeping disorder,
but they're medication goes horribly wrong.
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