The night I died.......

I write I write all through the dark and slumbering night, visions a kaleidoscope play as these thoughts of mine collide and form, I write I write for that is the norm. I own a secret book bourne of a secret identity it holds my secrets dearly and tells the tale to no one, of a misaligned soul who sojourned far and wide....... in this life and time for far too long, it lost itself amongst the polluted smog of lost reality and faked perception, forgotten and mislaid, amongst lifes debris in the shade. A fragmentary illusion shadowing the self of a shadowy existence in confusion. That night I died a thousand deaths those very thoughts belonged not to me, they were misconstrued, disconnected perceptions of all my darkest deceptions as a human stain on the shame of the world. I can no longer write, for these thoughts no longer delight they belong not to me you see, for tonight I died... Leigh Nov 05