As I prepare to leave my refuge,
The chilling touch of fear appears.
Silent as fog, it seeps through my unsuspecting
Body; casting it into my own mini ice-age.
As muscles are paralysed, I become another
Statue in the courtyard of despair.
My mind, a maze of suffocating, paranoid thoughts;
Which bounce around my skull,
Like maniacal marionettes on an acid trip.
The exit door of my bedroom haven
Becomes the trap-door to my doom;
And daylight, once a welcoming friend
Is now the agent of dread, invading my senses.
Overwhelming my capacity to enjoy.
Overcome by the fear of reality,
I retire again to the warm comfort of my bed;
