Down The Rabbit Hole

Down the rabbit hole I do fall. Where it goes to, I do not no.

To my dismay, Night becomes day and day becomes night.

Up becomes down, and down becomes right. 

Glasses re-emptying in to half full bottles. 

Cascading wine flowing backwards into the the bottle.

Fish with eagle wings, flying in the clouds.

Empty green bottles, with eyes and frowns.

Clocks running backwards, with red high heel stilettos .

Am I falling or am I rising. 

As down the rabbit hole I do go.

Smiles with no faces and disembodied voices.

Shapes changing colour that also change their shape.

Spinning villain faces upon a spring of a Jack-in-a-box face.

An uprooted apple tree, that floats upon the breeze.

Blossom pink flowers, that bloom in to green leaves.

Rapped growing fruit among the autumn changing leaves.

Falling from the branches and dancing in the non existing breeze.

Growing ever closer towards my falling gaze,

The flesh rotes away revealing its human skull seed.

The Viking dragon boats sailing out of water, 

With their magical devilish wings.

Dancing whales within the heavens with mythological spirit beings.

With a top hat and waistcoat swimming in champagne.

As the Viking Dragon boats chase a rainbow.

Red, yellow. Pink and green. around the apple tree

Flowers turn to fairies as lighting hits the leaves.

Whispers in the darkness, sends chills down my spine.

On this never ending circus ride.

With screams in corked glass jars.

crying, screaming to get out.

Un nerving sounds with what seams to have no cause. 

And floating broken mirror shards.

Reflecting unperfect sights.

Down deep into the rabbit hole I do fall.

In to the dark depths of my own psyche I do go.

Am I falling or am I rising. 

As down the rabbit hole I do go.

©2016 sarah jane patel