A Trip

Twilight's fading to a dim starlit night
What are these voices trying to tell me
They're soaring by my head in a frantic flight
Why won't these trees let me be
They are swaying and reaching out after me

I run and climb a wall to a great height
My eyes are closed but still I see
In the darkness a figure to the right
I open my eyes to see a prismatic world around me
There's no apparent shape for me to see

My next memory is that of the bridge
I'm staring down into the mist ( like clouds )
Looking for answers under floating twigs
Roars from angry beasts sound loud
But still from these my answers are not found

I stare out upon the dim horizon of these trees
Swaying, dancing, still reaching out in haste
More frantic voices unleash their final pleas
Some essence gives me chills and leaves me with a stale taste
And still no answers ( ten hours ) at the end of the trip
( a waste )