Falling into a gaping fissure,
darkness swallows me up.
Why can't it be Alice's rabbit hole?

Her underworld full of wonders,
overflowing with psychedelic shrooms,
hookah-smoking caterpillars and white rabbit.

Not just past memories,
devoid of any color,
filled with sharp pain and scars.

A place void of moonbeams,
no sunsets,
sunrises or rainbows.

No rose petals grace my bed,
or surrealistic pillow,
for me to rest my head.

Only lonely darkness,
wits occupied by only,
shameful silhouettes of guilt.

Alone in my personal hell,
my darkness,
my life.

No color in my hole,
only black images appear,
Unlike Alice's rabbit hole!

Must I forever stay,
cloaked within this veil,
masked by dark secrecy?