It's all in a dream, things are not what they seem.
The feel and pulse of a new living thing,
crawling deeply underneath my weathered skin.
It's shadow lurks beneath me when I crawl,
pulls me down to the depths where I fall.
The fog has set in filling my head,
with answers to questions I dislike and dread.
My likeness in the mirror has not one head but two,
the unsettling difference between me and you.
It's path grows for miles like a cancer,
unravelling hope, and prayers for an answer.
These things haunt me throughout the night,
between these two sensations,
is the war that I fight.
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