In the cold hours of the night I sit and gaze beyond wonder.
I gaze into a place where doubt is not welcome, but yet it haunts.
I gaze into an ocean where memory and fantasy entwine, blurring reality.
I gaze into a realm of piercing darkness, where shadows become the light.
I gaze into a region of perfect sanity, while psychosis waits for its prey.
I gaze into a sanctuary of order, built over unyielding chaos.
I gaze into a land where joy is plentiful, but fear is a daily surprise.
I gaze into a temple dedicated to time, where it may be altered at will.
I gaze into a valley where melodies linger, evoking lost emotions.
I gaze into a prison of desire, with love posing as its mask.
I gaze into the broken visage of a rock, worn away by the wind and waves.
In the cold hours of the night I sit and gaze into the waking dreams that fill my head.
These dreams are chosen, not fed from the unconscious.
They can be my cloud nine, yet also my nightmare. |
Submission Name: Waking Dreams
