There are dreams that I have every so often,
The same scenes and phrases sinking out like a fragmented memory,
Only to be washed away in the haze of consciousness.
The pictures in my head never play out the same way on my screen,
Images and characters always subject to change,
Twists and turns that leave my mind spinning with different outcomes.
I’ve grown tired of Fate and the games she plays,
No longer blessed with childhood innocence and imagination,
My bliss is no longer ignorant, my mind no longer sedated.
Yet, these dreams kept on reply in my mind leave more than whispers on my brain,
Some so loud I need to cast them into the world, uninhibited and shameless.
So free, so young, yet so confine to the solace I find in the pages of ink and gemstone.
My future has never been more clouded then when I looked into your crystal ball
Its images faded and distorted –like those the trapped in your head,
Falling into an endless cycle left in repetition for those forced to watch and see,
As they have yet to be burned by the promise of an untouched tomorrow.
Some moments, I’ll cry out to a god, who no longer exists,
Wishing to change the fate that had been so cruelly given to the unexpected,
But all that I will hear is the wind as it ruffles the leaves.
The silence that will follow, the breaking of my heart so still and subtle,
Will define me in this moment in time, unyielding.
And so these moments become shards of what once was the mirror to my soul,
Put back arbitrarily, if only to keep the reflected light trapped inside once more.
So I pace the room, frantically keeping my ink from spilling too much onto the page,
I know these reflections, these ill-kept words and dreams, will reach you again,
And then you will see what my heart has resurrected,
The beauty that can only be found the darkest parts of my soul,
Hidden by the glass shards that cover it.