Spoken Words from a Dreamer to a Dreamer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man is trapped in a cycle of his own dreams.

Submitted: July 23, 2013

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Submitted: July 23, 2013

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I lay in my coffin,

Cold, dark, and lonely,

Between the living world and the dead.

It’s a shame isn’t it?

To be trapped into what you said.

Like a flame yet to be lit.

I stay forgetful due to the past.

And still find a place to sleep.

I step across the line of what’s real and what’s not, and what do I find?

A way to express one’s mental stability.

 

I found it difficult to exit my coffin from bellow as I was ignited with immense heat.

I clawed and scratched my way through until I broke out.

I witnessed a dull bluish life.

I stood up and began wandering around the room where my coffin lay, as if a dog chasing his tail.

I then saw a reflected dim light on the wall.

It intrigues me how this benevolent wonder is so beautiful.

I approached it and saw it.

 

It discarded my arm.

It disarranged my facial features.

It lifted me off my feet, and threw me back into my coffin, pushing me even deeper bellow the ground.

And shut me down, with a mental picture burning inside my head.

It ignited me with immense heat.

 

I clawed and scratched my way through until I broke out.

I witnessed a dull bluish life.

I stood up and gazed upon a reflected dim light, what a benevolent wonder.

 

And began to approach it.


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