half way to the middle of fabricating the truth

this new found land
halfway between
fantastical nirvana
and dreaded bliss
at midpoint
we bleed ecstasy.
and dizzy does that;
vertigo...
dont look down
im falling up
and spins begin.
chasing spiral stairs
leads to nowhere
but more blank stares
and we blink before we think
.

holding hands,
like healing hearts,
is hard
(and haunted heads ache)
rock is solid;
lighthouse leads the way
yet still there is fog.

this new found land
halfway between
inevitable existence
and virtual duality.
foreigners speak the same language
and nothing is stranger
than fiction
come fact...

how will you react?