In reply to:
The imagery makes me think of a cool Radiohead music video or something.
That's probably the greatest thing anyone's ever said about one of my poems. I love you for that comment.
Here's another slightly disturbing one...
Albert Alders doesn't sleep,
He's dreaming, drowning, falling deep
There's muddy footprints on his soul,
Broken bodies, blackened holes.
He wanders through the crowded streets,
Shaking hands, caressing feet,
No touch can wake his deadened eyes,
His head is wrapped in smoke and lies.
He waits for you to play your part,
You still the beating of your heart,
But now he's near, the world seems still
You're only waiting for the kill.
Now Albert Alders follows you,
He sees your mind, he knows your truth,
Hide and seek may be your game,
But Albert Alders never plays.
Albert Alders never sleeps,
He never drinks or ever eats,
Wait and see he'll find you soon,
And then you'll hear his deadly tune.
You sit there in your comfort, you don't believe I'm real. But you cannot buy protection from the way that I feel!