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In a dark mirror I stare at the face
That no longer brings forth recognition,
Not really sure why I've come to this place
As if brought here by some premonition.
I brood alone in this Gilman House room,
Tried to kill myself but the hand faltered,
My diseased body reeks, here in the gloom,
Becoming so hideously altered.
My hair, what remains, is coarse and
obscene,
There are webs between each scaly finger,
Not man, nor fish, something trapped in between,
How long in this limbo must I linger?
My nightmares are filled with creatures
that swim,
And a god 'neath the ocean who's dreaming,
Dreams boding a future, terribly grim,
Each morning I awake madly screaming.
Protruding eyes see the truth in the
glass,
My denial won't save me much longer,
Memories of this life will fade and pass,
I submit to a call that is stronger
Copyright © 1998 Peter A. Worthy
"Changing" © 1998 by Ron Shiflet
