Too Much NyQuil

He’s surrounded on all sides
By flurrying embers
Ashes staining his
Strawberry blond hair
All his clothes
Smell like smoke
Once, they were white
That was many years ago
Sometimes, he thinks
It was all just a dream
It was only a dream

But a suffocating voice says,
“No,
This is life
And you will never survive
If you live only hoping
That one day
You’ll wake up”

Still, he closes his eyes
While his flesh is burnt
By the fiery rain
And he still remains,
Even now,
Eyes closed,
Asleep yet awake,
Always hoping
For the inevitable end

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