Some mornings, he wakes in a cold sweat

Images of his fevered past that he can’t forget

Unable to escape the visions in his eyes

He prepares for another long day of lies

Floating through his new life by sheer will

Hoping that his motions are not mechanical

Dreading that the day will end in night

He wonders what lost memories he will fight

The cold chill of fear is not new to him

But he prays that one day the feeling will dim

Leaving him free of those vivid thoughts

That paint the picture of days long past