Poemeostasis

The lack of death

In tonight’s bed of wealth

With an inability

To break reality

Where one enters

Into the dreamland

Of love and horror

One that is full of sorrow

Why haft you not

Let me enter this

World of magic

With no mages in the page

I demand that thou shakily

Release me into a fake –

And extreme reality

For my stories lie

In my tower of ice

On a desk of spice

And my people are mice

Who need me as guide

For I – the master of this world

Now stuck in a paralysis

In another dimension of cold

With open eyes within stasis