Enveloped, and cresting the dusk of dawn

the palace is ancient

there are only shadows of ghosts in residence

clinging to the false sun above my bed

they sometimes whisper nonsense to hear

only our answers’ pentameter

The thieves mock us in their debutante


I cannot find the tears for you

forever is but a sliver of an instant in the eyes

of a god

the truth is a fraction of an epic on the tongue

of a devil

I often wonder what he sees, lost count of

the times I have heard others tell his tale

our lives are dreaming bleak

pale, like the moon

in winter over a tundra barren, unmolested

never knowing the touch of man

lucidity in confusion of where I am

pellucidity blurred in waking

finishing where we began

unquiet this subconscious bedlam

10 thoughts on “Lucid

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