When Things Lay Still

In the idle minutes of the day

The mind strays to murky water

Repeating the things I’d never say

Meditation slowly lead to slaughter

Nightmares are not fictional scenes

Of terrors strange and uknown

They’re truth hidden in misty dreams

Our simplest fears are shown

Nevermind the progress of the heart

As healing must always be in motion

Nevermind the journey that from the start

Struggled through sickening potion

It’s the mind, the mind, and nothing but this

That turns thoughtful quiet into cry

That stirs and molds the dreamy mist

Till fantasies have no choice but to die