At times of loss, then it does seem
As though all flat is my being
Eyes open, yet nothing seeing;
Alone, I wander through a dream.

Crazed horizons: a mottled theme
Beckons me to sanity's edge.
A splintered mind; a driven wedge
Into reality's true heart
And at the last a distant part
Found clinging to a windswept ledge.

Prompt: Ronovan Writes: Decima Poetry Challenge #7: Dream

I’ve never tried a ‘decima‘ poem before. I’m not tremendously pleased with my effort: what do you think of it?