A Syringe Filled With Acid

Dark carbon bruises the metallic walls

With ivory streaks up and across the chalky bulkhead

Remnants of some ghastly claws

An awkward adjustable medical bed sits in the middle

It squeaks each time its raises or lowers

A single table located at the left corner

Covered in an array of fluorescent syringes 

Which lights up the room as if they are a single lantern

Filled with a thousand glowing bugs that float 

An unknown creature lurks in the shadows

What appears to be a wolf made of cracked stone

Covered from head to tail in moss and vines

Grinning oh so brightly

The syringes’ lights bounce off the crystalline teeth

With bright red eyes the hue of Pluto’s remains

Coming towards, faster and prowling

Coming closer, faster and growling

It jumps upon the ashen bed, curls up and falls asleep

A beautiful creature with a dangerous motive

Watching, learning, pretending, planning

No idea of the capability, which allows for intensity

A large silver wolf in a dark gray dorm

With small multicolored stars twinkling among the dark

And as it starts to fade, he wakes up in the same room

Not as gloomy, not as broken

With working light stands, and loose restraints

It is almost rehabilitating

Shifts in this reality allow for finality

Yet its accompanied emptiness brings true displacement

To take control and not allow for manipulation

No manipulation, yes hallucination

Retreat into the real world to no longer escape a fake reality

So the truth must be a weapon if it is not accepted

A fake reality is like a syringe filled with acid

Barely visible, the fangs but shimmer

Waiting to be injected and not questioned

© Niklen 3/13/18