The World is Strange

The world is strange

And I can’t remember how I got here,

And though the air is clear,

And glass reminders surround me,

I cannot find my face.

The world is strange

And there are cries outside my door

From people I have never met before,

And I can’t remember my parents,

Not even their names.

The world is strange

And I am afraid of things I cannot see,

And sad for the things I’ll never be,

And I cannot remember where I have been,

But the screams are calling.

The world is strange.

The windows show blackened skies

And the dead are gurgling sighs,

Weeping for their dismissed lives,

For what point was there in dying?

The world is strange

And I cannot escape the horrid feeling

That this is not the intended state of being

For my skin, my heart and my mind

But this world is where I lie.