Reality

Reality is but a dream
For we know reality as a worm knows to fly.
For as we lie in our stupor,
our coma we call life,
the back story is set
for a more grand purpose.
A purpose of bloody death
and glorious destruction.
A purpose us mere mortals
cannot comprehend.
A purpose so insidious,
if we knew it
we would lose our
very sanity.
For death is the grand awakening,
the awakening from this dream.
This dream that blinds us from reality.
For as my blood stains this paper,
blood from my clammy, cold wrists.
I allow the infernal figures of reality
to awaken me from this nightmare
we call reality.