This realm,
Is sacred.
Held together as might a mind palace;
Yet fractured,
Broken.
Non-Euclidean spaces,
Interspersed with endless tunnels –
Or corridors.
Places built by my subconscious,
Remembering the most vivid of dreams.
Monsters stalking me in the dark.
But,
I still always go down swinging.
Always Go Down Swinging.
