I slept in my old room last night.

Easily, done just as.
Walking along side tarmac and the odd growth.
My feet ache in broken shoes and i can't seem to see an end to the ocean.
Perhaps the sun is setting a glare into my eye,
or perhaps the earth really does bend,
and beyond what i see is merely water collapsing over the edge.
There's a rythmatic collapture to it, though.
Disgustingly sweet vocals etched into a microphone.
I sat up all night wondering just how those who served me there,
would never know my name.
Outrage and catastrophic emotions were the latter today,
He kept asking if i could hear him.
Moving oceans, water folding, took about preoccupying my attention.
Though my eyes constantly altered direction.

~
Beneath such darkness, the moon acting as a sensor light within a long hall.
Much like the one in the corridors of Lauren's flat,
flickering to attention at the remotest sign of your careful tread in the dark.
Desperately trying to aid your vision, but lacking the means of motivation.

Light coming and going so, it appears you are a character in a flip book comic.
Or perhaps this was only emulated in the outside world, due to the trees i passed beneath.

Words rolled across the foam, on the edge of the waves,
I heard nothing but mumbling,
And nothing convinced me to lean closer.