CAMELOT FANTASIES

Tiptoeing on eggshells
Is not an existence
That nagging detection
Insists with persistence
That feeling of security
Slowly dissolved
Matters not how the quagmire is solved
Sharp cold seeps in to shatter the comfort
Piling on the blanket
Building a fort
Focus on the feeling of security
Even if false
Weaves in threads of obscurity
Fatigue sets in
With the expulsion of tears
Feeling the constriction
Brought on by fears
All of it seems an illusion
Drown in the delusion

~Divine