They’re all under a spell.They all really believe it.It’s black magic, I can tell.Running is an understatement,I am sprinting until my blood feels like acid.Get me out of here! Crop circles are round and repetitive in my head.Over. And over. And over again. Replay. Rewind. Replay. Rewind.What’s the magic word again?These strangers around me make me feel dead.Shut the blinds, shut off my head.Turn off the lights, Misery doesn’t even want my company tonight.Isolation is my destination.Is this a bed or a tomb? Is this life or is this doom?Isn’t time supposed to heal? Or will it reveal? Sep 5 Queen of the Damned.