Dreaming.
In the in between state of mind.
Where we feel magic,
But also panic.

We can't get out,
Until we drink the dark,
And fall into the trance.
Or until we die and never feel the magic again.

In our dreams,
We hear chains and breeze, screaming and tears dripping to the ground.
We see swirling red and black, threatening to take over.
We taste the clouds, which are razor blade sharp despite their beauty.
We smell the iron like blood, so sharp and poignant.
And we feel the dread. The feeling that we could be next.
The next to never sense anything ever again.

What a dream?
Or a nightmare.
But nightmares are reality,
So let us embrace what we have.
Let us embrace what we can actually sense, before it's our turn;
Magic, and Panic.