Sweating blood from open pores in fear of these nocturnal visits. Many tongue chatter incessant, deep into my sleeping self. Instructing me while I dream from worlds beyond and below. Their voices, a kaleidoscope of colours I can't describe. Foreign senses stimulate the brain beyond all comprehension. An entity only visible as a radiant force. They speak to me more intensely knowing now that I am able to sculpt the world within this lifting lucid field of R.E.M. From under my skin, the blood I'm sweating turns black as it spills from me. From out of my mind, inner voice of reason falling away. My tongue and ears and eyes, removed by the force of voices that now control my living river of bleeding endless black ascendance. Hear none. Speak none. See a new consciousness beyond escape. What am I and what are they to me? What are they and what am I to them? Cleansing stream of fluid flowing flushing all my fears away. All the rotting cells I leak drown me from the outside in, dissolving my expired body as I'm carried toward the awaiting shore.