Times Door

In perfect sight I see what’s come to pass.
You look at what has become of me proud.
If only there was a route through time, fast.
It’s passing waits for no discussion now,
Of its illusory being. Refrains,
From malicious temptation? Indifferent.
We’ll forge on alone beside mans best bane.
Though a companion of ours, unpleasant.
In fear or pride we think it’s forgotten?
Who would remind death of our numbered days?
And at the door of eternity, one,
Perhaps would ask what’s this last toll to pay?
There’s nowhere else to go but through the door.
Here time won’t follow, you’re alone. Go forth.

These Labyrinthine Dreams

The morning dawn awakes, so do I
I know this much does not change day to day.
In my journeys through the night I pass by
Field of memory I can’t keep they say.

One flower picked, and I’m accused a thief
Tell me, who’s the real owner of my field?
Of my own will, can’t keep one thought so brief,
Then by whose orders are these vault doors sealed?

Nighttime. No rest for the weary it seems.
Where journey after restless journey through
The confines of these labyrinthine dreams,
Leaves me not any closer to the truth.

These are dreams I won’t remember I fear,
I see there will be no rest for me here.

Reality Demands a Sacrifice

After all this time am I still awake?
Or am I still sleeping? One cannot know.
This a colored lens, anxieties take?
I don’t think it would make a difference so,
Our hours, what we perceive to be day,
Are spent towards the twilight leaning;
And what’s imagined to be night will say:
Rest. Awake. Do not spend all time dreaming.
Reality demands a sacrifice.
I will rise and in doing so procure
A dream that has enough blood to suffice.
What does the waking world hold that’s allure?
I will stay asleep and remember when,
Reality is a place I had been.

Learning in the Dark

He must reach up to what he can’t below.
A solemn song the twilight will now sing.
Into dark depths, winding paths to follow.
What good there can the nighttime to him bring?
An age of waiting on the ocean floor,
Patience for questions that delay answers.
Inhabited by his greatest fears; more
Than a passing phobia or cancer.
One wonders if there’s breath under water,
He has been drifting down there for so long.
His arms, can he bring himself to bother?
Perhaps. He’ll soon find that his arms are strong.
In swimming towards the surface he will find,
Darkness and light, both, are repaid in kind.