It haunts..
Like a nasty ghoul
That you just can see
Everything all too clearly
Then lies become truth
Assumptions become facts
It just happens how you think
Phobic fears live on
And consume you
Till you cant deduce the right
And be clouded ever
By your fears...
"Am I still in the game?
Or the one watching?
He's never really left
Hasn't He?" asks the Angel