I fight battles in my dreams
Titanic as the lore welded to my seams
Everywhere from here to there and inbetween
The landscape always beams
But when a specter passes
Shadows bundle up in masses
I gather up a glass of a most peculiar drink
Whose power doesn't make me taller
But rather makes them shrink
Then my terror flees and
I behold swarms of insects
compressed in death
I feel guilty for my lofty stomps
Which end their micro-merry romps
And in my ceremony of mercy for me
I fashion great demons for all to see
Did I mention when I dream I do not sleep?
I seem awake but do not peep
I hope catatonia is just a stage
Don't eat or drink
Or even age