Trip

Why suffer the tribulations?
The hidden strife,
like air, unseen, but always there.
why act like we do?
only to hope that in sleep such far fetched dreams may come true:
for isn't it safer to dream forever,
that is-for the sake of one's own twisted mind,
than to awaken to a dusty broken record which is life?
Logically so: if dreams are what we chase,
and all exists in the mind,
why not never end the dream?
that is: to end the real nightmare?
It seems fear has a grip on all who perceive-
for if one knew what dark and twisted stairways lay ahead,
or perhaps what aid exists in the next life,
he would allow the creep of death into his safe haven,
hoping and pleading with grim and his cold grip
that maybe the next life won't be such a trip.