Questionable Reality Madness is kneeling at my door. Fearing to get out of bed reluctant to leave my island uncertain if the floor exists or what is that sea of intangible darkness. The world has stretched out of all dimensions. Stumbling down Escher stairs with fever on my breath spicy, hot, prickly, tongue, the truth is splitting at the seams, I don't remember getting lost but here I find myself abandoned. Distraught with no connections to why something is out of sorts, I can't recall what that means. Strong wind voice of reason sweeps me up in a calm draft the words sound like all is well and madness fades as shadow before light. My besieged sanity finds gradual serenity my tongue remembers what it has swallowed I know why I am here! The rough alchemy has run its course. ~ Composed by Mo Ben-Shir, Allan Drabble, Tim Page Banshee's Quill June 27th 2004 Back to Banshee's Quill Home