“Misleading Slumber”

My mind misleads me down its crooked vortex,

It’s a slumbering, hollowed-out convex

Time machine. . . it hurls me towards uncertainty.

It steals my conclusions away from me.

It bursts open familiar dimensions,

and blasts away previous perceptions.

I am home, though I am mislead,

If this is what it’s like when I am dead. . .

I will welcome it.

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