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It's not paranoia when they really are coming for you is it?! |
| Invisible Hand Criss Dane In the last light of day From an ancient Lethe existence Floating on the edge of sense Where will-o-wisps come to play The invisible hand waves in the distance A jarring vortex, echoed rounds My haven now a distant shore I’m cornered deep within its core As muted thunder sounds The invisible hand knocks on my door Incessant scraping, drawing nearer Racing blood to hopeless crawl I feel my soul begin to pall Malicious thoughts becoming clearer As the invisible hand rakes my wall My heart thuds to a frozen silence Rational thought going colder Seconds turning eons older Panic halting every sense The invisible hand rests on my shoulder Frigid pressure growing tight My welling eyes begin to bloat A voiceless wail, my final note While swimming in a fading light The invisible hand clasps my throat A lingering thought of wasted living All else lost in drifting sighs And cutting loose of earthly ties I feel the ebbing need to cling As the invisible hand covers my eyes |