Eyes are the window to the soul,
The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,
And the door to the rest of the world is a hand holding a pencil.
The door can take those who enter it to wherever the hand chooses,
A war scene or beside a hospital bed,
Maybe in someone else entirely.
They say that you can’t be in two places at once,
But when the door opens,
The mind and body separate,
And the hand tears the world in two.
You sit on the subway but your mind is in a crime scene,
While the person next to you is no longer in debt,
But fighting darkness with power they will never have.
When the mind exits the door and returns to earth,
The body continues its nine-to-five day.
While the mind patiently waits,
To make its great escape again.