Taking my last breath to a leaping depth

I never felt so tense, nothing makes sense

Traveling to another place, showered in lace 

Fragments of death upon the theft 

Nothing feels right, my chest breathes so tight

Everything takes shape, but never feels straight 

You lend a helping hand, 

from beneath the liars chair that you stand

Take my hand, and we’ll break free from this land

Beautiful seascape storm

Centred around my base

Categorised by form

An Internal left out space