I try not to notice the passage I travel.
Lying in front of me is eternity;
Behind me is the past I can never get back.
Behind is full of doors I let shut and lock
Windows I'd ignored that now are all barred
Littered with empty liquor and pill bottles
And portraits of memories left shattered and broken
That mysteriously reappear on the walls ahead
Just to haunt me and taunt me; regret's classic curse

I once loved to peer out the windows to the light
Which blinded me, confused me, and distorted my soul
Making me see spots of glorious colour
Which I would foolishly attempt to chase
Until one day my eyes adjusted to all brightness
And any light appeared darkened and pointless
There was no light to strive and to hope for
Windows became a trivial temptation
A reminder that this hall was one I couldn't leave
And outside's bliss was one I couldn't reach
So eventually all windows disappeared

There used to be doors lining the walls by the dozens
I used to explore them searching for an escape
But most of the doors just lead to dead ends
And these short paths soon lost my interest
So then I learned to ignore most doors and press forward
To ignore the clicking coming from behind me
As those possible pathways closed permanently

The hall became darker and seemed to be endless
My once excited sprinting became a casual crawl
Soon it was so dim the doors disappeared
And I lost sight of everything
Voices then whispered and echoed in the passage
Gradually louder until they were screeching
Screaming that rang and made my ears bleed
Their words were mostly inconprehensible
The parts I could make out were begging to die
Saying I was the only one to set them free
Finally, after what felt like decades of walking
The hall came to a halt with one final doorway
With the words "Exit" lit up in red light
It was my only option so I dared to open it
I felt my flesh peeling and my blood starting to boil
That's when I awoke in a hurry
I was in my room; it all was a dream

But as I went through the day in a mindful state
The same endless pattern: Breakfast, work, and bed
The same path I always find myself forced to walk...
I guess dreams do come true