The shadowness of a cocoon that seeps within,
Deep inside all of us a persona tries to break free,
Many languages we speak but when those words no longer spin,
We stand still proud and full just a like a tree,

Silent echoes of memory roam in thy mind,
Like a dark alley only the sides can be seen,
Body splintered and shattered, morphine has made this kind,
Am I here in this place or is it a dream.

Bright lights look down on me a paradoxical state,
Shadowy figures whizz past in green and blues,
Buzzing and humming of electronic bleeps that one out of tune its late,
I am sure I would know what was happening if I was in their shoes,

It is then I realise I cannot feel my body or even my face,
Mind is active and in overload, double vision clouds my eyes,
A voice echoes "Oh my he is awake by Gods good grace",
Another asks squeeze my hand if you understand, I tried really I did again I tries,

Here I am at Twenty one plus totally befuddled and yet bemused,
It seems my only form of access is to blink these very tired eyes,
Words revolve in my mind soon you will get better they all enthused,
Wherever I am and how I will recover were lost in clear blue skies.