Desperate soliloqzuy of a dying one

Here, on the dim and stony
ground of my darkest dreams
that enmesh me in grotesquery
Here, on this uneven back of
a dormant deity called reflection,
I lie and fall asleep.
An opaque mass of voices descents
on me and pale fingers of fear
grope for my face.
Invisible walls approach,
a claustrophobic bliss,
but likewise strangling anxiety.
Geometric patterns swirl in
the omnipresent nothingness.
Reflection!
A mighty deity of old awakes,
I presume.
I slumber, I rest,
I am dying in this
Gallery of Darkness