My mind has cloned another Id.
Beyond this bed it lies.
An Ibsen world this clone has bid,
This world, I say goodbye.
The sate of pain does strange things
And one is false remorse.
Sigh and cry are another sting,
That guides a nowhere course.
Yet torment creeps a shadow back,
In wait on trip or fall.
Satanic dogs harass my track,
It's light a deadly maul.
I live a sort of antiworld
No walls of confines sight.
This fantasy a world unfurled,
A world of things that's right.
T'will endure a life time I'm sure
A life time of inure.