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Drewsif Stalin's Musical Endeavors
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Mirage
How long have I slept? Can I trust that any of this is real? How long have I stirred? Can I believe that all of this resides in fantasy?
Blurred lines reveal an untrustworthy representation of events transpired.
Am I to trust my mind's eye? Or have I truly gone mad? Drifting with no end in sight, or a final exit plan.
As I wander in the empty, I can feel it creeping in. Stranded with an unfinished thought: I cannot remove myself.
Seeking the springs, the solvent to this murky solution. I've slipped into a daze, a boundless maze, a short lived resolution.
Mirage, a short lived resolution.
Is this just a construct within my mind, or set into place by something divine? A prophecy come to fruition? Or set into place by my own intuition?
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