Taut

Taut are the sinews and fibres
Intertwined neural synapses are flexed,
Stretched are the muscular reflex
As premonition echo in the head,
The conflux of so much confusion
Gripped within emasculated dreams,
The subtle neuroses of being
Are like necrosis eating everything,
As the symbolic transparency starts shimmering
Initiating a consciousness scheme,
Rigid is the state of this moment
As if rigor mortis had just set in,
Like sleep paralyzed by connections
That have been triggered within my brain,
There is no sight or sound of movement
I am I now dead or have I just gone insane.