Is all of the rest merely a dream
A fever-plagued horror
For the watchful unknown?

“Have I truly arisen
With flesh and bones astir?”
Is the murderous shadow
That looms over every dawn

Is all of the rest just a maddening display?
On the canvas of the wicked
Inflamed by their sorrows

Or have I trespassed
Into the hairs of death?
On some far-ago plane
Uninvolved and far gone

Is all of the rest
But a hurtful
Charade?