psalm for a simulated reality.

ignited and inhaled
i'm becoming a part
of the scenery;
a painting on the wall
camoflaged within the trees.
an identity lost and found;
only to be misplaced once more.
wrapped in winter
a decorated box
left by the door;
lying in wait
there's no point in direction
we're travelling together
not at equal pace
but with the same destination
always searching for a cause;
a catalyst for conversation.
in a dream
i dreamt a song;
a sound track
for those wandering souls
overwhelmed by the stimulus
all we need is a little flavour,
something with which
to paint our tongues
as the sirens sound
another victim has been claimed
on the television
stuck on repeat
when the warning bells sound
does it mean we should leave?