Like a canvas that's open
To anything and everything,
Nothing is evident.
Logic is now an old painting.

Blurred lines of reality,
The fantasies beg for a chance
To intertwine with clarity.
The dreams begin to dance.

I consume another dose
Of the free trips
To the place away from most
Again, I take it to my lips

But the true night is coming,
Time to say goodbye.
Colourful heroes I love seeing
Are gone in the blink of an eye.