Is it really morning
Or is it just structures emerging from a pink horizon?
My eyes are wide open
And I am still awake, challenging the sun
Is it really mid-day
Or is it just me feeling the fire within building a fear?
My eyes are watery
And I am still squinting, hoping for the view to clear
Is it really raining
Or is it my tears flowing, drenching me completely?
My eyes are blinking
And I am still gasping for breath, wheezing heavily
Is it really nightfall
Or is it my vanity that has unfolded its dark sheet?
My eyes are darting
And I am still walking into chairs, hurting my feet
Is it really real
Or is it another game of virtual reality without any rule?
My eyes are glazed
And I am still alive, not knowing if I am wise or a fool