Tuesday, 20 January 2015
In the stillness and quiet of the night,
I slide from reality.
Tiptoeing down serpentine halls,
Only the sound of clicking heels breaking the monotony.
As though suspended in space,
Lost in the vast, cavernous emptiness.
Somewhere, a clock ticks by
Engulfing the last morsel of good memories,
Seeing shadows through the haze,
An amputated leg crushing one's heart.
Reality has always been a fantasy.
photo: SM Lanang Premier