September 22, 2016

White Haze


Covered in a white dream like haze,

Why are dreams so sweet?

Is it the diversity that brings,

To our tattered minds the new ideas?

Is it the great swell of sight,

That unfolds before our very eyes?

Is it the contact with another worlds,

That scientists have chalked up to,

Chemicals and neurons?

And why do we long to go back,

When some of the dreams,

Are worse than the very life we live?
It's safe that's why,

You can come back,

You can feel just enough,

To make an imprint on your mind,

Real enough to be a memory,

But not true enough to leave,

The marks of physical scars.
It 's the white haze that keeps you,

In a cocoon  of separation.

Every now and again,

That cocoon  drops and we are privy,

To what we know,

As a nightmare,

A terror of the night,

But what is scary about a nightmare?
The blood,

The monster,

The fear gripping your chest,

Of the reality of it all,

The very reality you are faced with,

The reality of recognizing,

Your mortality.
(Have you ever had a dream just stick with you, like that very atmosphere was carried over to your wakeful self?)




~Thoughts of a Dreamer~

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