In the forest, the black, deep forest,
Searching for that seductive bliss.
Fermenting shadows, dance and taunt me,
Restraining me from the velvet kiss.
In the forest, the black, deep forest,
The trailing tendrils of my matted hair.
Forever flowing, never knowing,
Circling endlessly, going nowhere.
A dead end down another blind trail,
Around the corner and on into the night.
A new morning, a misty dawning,
Eight more hours through the darkness till light.
No self-inducement created this monster,
That blocks my every means of retreat.
Incarceration keeps me from what I miss:
The imprint from the sandman's feet.
Surreal rambling through thorny bushes
Grasp the Grail, grab the chance for peace.
A multitude of swirling voices.
A scything tirade that will not cease.
Unwelcome presence to stir the silence.
Desperation seeking some release.
The light that beckons from the far side,
Calling me to the precipice.
