Amid the blending, shadows of night,
we liberate reality's sight.
We seep into a realm of no boundaries,
where we feel fear, lust and misery.
We are now entrenched deep within,
a dimension of our mind called REM.
Where meanings to the visions snake,
into past and present, til we wake.
We stand aside as scenes play out,
while sanity, our ID's, now doubt.
Where colors leech, yet blood runs red
and all inhibitions now are shed.
Rewinding moments and memories past,
watching how it was, our lots were cast.
We see those that are long since dead,
we stand before doors, options of dread.
That twist of imaginational delusion,
that gives rise to philosophical conclusions.
We were in a place, that never was.
But to our horror, exist, it does.
And in the dawn that follows dreams,
is revealed the truth of what we've seen.
In that lightening moment of lucidity,
we see within, our own frailties.
Copyright © Paula Swanson