Dreamer And The Dreamed

The turning wheel of time stirs up the dust of disarray, that settles in the crumbling cauldron of disordered life of illusion. In the maiming moments of disdained dejection, truth tumbles in the mélange of disorientation chaos. Under the fantasy firmament psyche in desertic isolation, embedded in mindscape imagery, suffering desiccated and lonely, searches for a novel niche in self-constructed reverie to get a spellbound shelter of captivating hope in frustration. Dormant notion then invents dream, steers mind into domain of delusion. A thing made is destined to break, but not by the will of the creator, for whom the sense of time collapses, making the frame of timeless trance, where the dreamer assembles relentless the shifting scenes of desire dreams. The montage etched by the trail of mirage, migrating in dunes of desolation, makes collage of dream in deluded mind against backdrop of nocturnal oasis. The dreamer doesn’t see the dawn, for the soul sleeps entranced deep within, can’t escape self-built illusory maze, until divine consciousness makes wake-up call.