like layers of skin reality begins then wavers
washing over me
mistily
i hold tight to my mind walking
stelthaly
i call upon the voices of death, whispering
come to me
arriving in differant shapes and forms
they arrive
surprising me, sometimes
scraring me
still i speak my mind
watching as my words
wither away into the dark deep grey
of what is left behind
sending some home and allowing loose the others
and i oft times pray
that what i did was right
though truth in my eyes like colors of grey preceed me
watching
and waiting
for the mists
to ease my cell of pain