this eternal feeling of fantasy
never knowing if we are lost in a dream
or just never brave enough to truly wake up
never knowing how to make peace with life’s decay
like that bright flower fading and falling in Autumn
another start
not because it’s needed
not because it’s wanted
everything that is to be said
has already been said
again and again and again
yet, what can be done?
we are still here
still full of passion
still words spring to lips
emotions embodied in hearts
say the words again
say these same words again
not because they are needed
not because they are wanted
no
instead
they are simply the only words to be said
so say them again
while we are still here to hear them
finally reaching the end of torment
light shouting the dark tunnel is over
here, the deposed angel finally ascends
here, color is finally added to the starved palette
and, here, weeping at a world that is too much to comprehend
there is only one desire left unquenched
for life to be less beautiful, less complex, less
less to make what you are more
less to make the world an easier ball to grab
less to be a bigger fish in a smaller pool
for the newly risen to fall below the clouds
to be in the darkness of the shadow of ignorance
wishing to ignore the wonders of reality
and praying for the simple serenity
of uncomplicated sleep
a monochromatic life
with a place for everything
and everything in its place
there has to be a right way to live life
there must be a right way to live life
there is a correct answer
there is a way to live a perfect life
to end this dream that encapsulates everything
this sleep that keeps us firmly away from heaven
slumbering in the drudgery of normal life
yes, please
yes, I pray
yes
and yes
and yes
say: there is a way
a way to make peace
a reason to be here
a reason for existence
a reason to wake up from this sleep
a way to acknowledge the dark truths in our eternal hearts
you exist, don’t you, must you, please?
oh
those weeping waves that buffet us at waking
the closest we come to shrieking consciousness
that waking scream of acknowledgement
buried so deep, but universally possessed
yes, balefully
yes,
yes
and yes
this life is nothing
sleeping through life to escape the specter of life
in all her meaningless splendor
sleep until we disappear
to never exist again
this is truth
this is what we repress and fly from
this is the reason for the lifetime dream
to never acknowledge the most obvious truth
this is nothing
this life is nothing
dust
sand
gas
star
we repress this
don’t we?
don’t we?
must we?
is there a real answer?
a yes or no to that baleful scream of humanity?
repress it
repress it
forget it
repress it
repress it
life or no life
all the same
degrading humanity’s greatest feats
to nothing but another grain of sand on the beach
or a galaxy in the sky
yes
it is all the same
repress it
repress it
yes
live in a dream
we were beautiful
maybe are beautiful
is that not something?
yes
but it is all the same
somewhere in-between
there is mulch on the ground
there is a blooming flower
and then there is honey
so sweet
all we are
all we are
all we are
lost again
asleep again
safely dreaming
the map led nowhere
we have come here before
can we just call this somewhere home?
even if it is not the answer to prayer?
try to make peace
dreams of rainbows clouded by reality
or clouds of dreams drowning reality’s rainbow
here is where we are
here is where we stand
and here is all we have
until we dream deeper
starting again
over and over again
this feeling of perpetuality
these revolutions are infinite
were we not just here?
another nowhere?
have we become complacent?
do we trust what we have,
simply because we’ve always had it?
or have found it in our hands?
living a life without seeing our own decay
living a life chasing our tail
until, one day
after those we have touched
those we have loved
are ash on yesterdays wind
after we look at ourselves
after we still see that potential we imbue
yet
the revolutions are not infinite
with or without ever waking from our dream
with or without truth
we will be dust on tomorrow’s breeze
a dream with no dreamer