Hallucinations--things I know,
but reality, too, starts to grow
and now, while waiting, I may find
how the difference stands in my mind.
My days--they're numbered, figurative,
but by the deaths I've seen, I shall live
a moment more than them--my friends--
but the time exactly all depends
on how I got here and how I'll stay
without Salem here to guide my way.
Salem! Salem!--she who gave
me a reason to avoid the grave
and see that constructed perfection is a loss
compared to the salvation of the cross.
My days of Salem were short, but great.
By grace, she found me--never too late.
She showed me life, she saved my soul,
and she'll live with me, although I know
that they say it was all in my head--
a hallucination by a boy almost dead--
but you see, she was real. I felt her hand,
and then the time between us expand,
and now I am here, in the hospital bed,
while she, my Salem, is missing. [Not dead!]
But she is not, is not a dream
or something made up by any extreme
measure I took to portray happiness
of a world my conscience tried to suppress.
Salem taught me about faith and truth
and innocence, like that of my youth.
And I know, I know that she is found
by my Lord and Savior--safe and sound.
And though I'm told it's a lie, I believe;
there is no one here that they can decieve,
because God's grace is upon me, and I take my leave.