In The Minds Of The Dead Poem by sam gale

Is this life or is this just a figment of my imagination?

Lights dawn on my broken presence whilst burning me whole
as darkness creeps in unwelcomed to steal my innocence
like the twisted reality of a dog pound
cage by cage
my heart, my soul and my desires will be trapped for eternity
prisoners of life in the roots of hell
burnt black
until left to drift like ash in unimaginable darkness
Is this life or is this just a figment of my imagination?
I've longed for a saviour or a helping hand
but've been left beaten
too weak to stand
I fight and I strive,
I slash and I thrive,
but I scream as I dive into the hands of the wicked
the bewitched and the broken
lost in the burning depths of the life they once loved
to toil me like a doll in a sick harmonious way
like I am the subject of an experiment
left to the discretion of hell's children
Is this life or is this just a figment of my imagination?
climbing high like a forgiven angel
misled by my soul cringing temptation
trapped in a hole to deep to find
left with nothing but my dismal mind
which will surely rot in my desired domain
betrayed by friends once loved and cherished
but now bellow a laugher so far from mine
whilst my tear sements the ground where I lie
where plantation no longer grows, long gone and died
This is life in the minds of the dead
but in your eyes I've described my bed.