But nevermore my harsh friend, for I hear Kipling poignantly
Clearer now, when he beseeched “If neither foes nor loving friends
can hurt you.” I am holding nothing against you. But allow me a wry
smile as I imagine you sneering, or with morbid bacchanalian
fashion smiling with me, as I proclaim it is a 21st century movie
which sundered the lock in this, my bes-Poe-k (bespoke) manacle.
NEVERWAS my tormented brother, for once more I could meld dreams
with all that it seems. Once more there be castles and stalwart kings.
Once more there be beauty and strength in ideals held as faith and truth.
Once more there be no such thing as out of sanity, when I can hold
Aloft again a head full of flighty things. When I can believe again that
All that we see or seem is not a dream within a dream.
When this genius of a character proclaimed: “Once again, I live as I dream…”