I Found Myself

I found myself Wandering across A dreamscape That was not my own; And wondering About the many Dreamscapes of The wanderers, Suddenly seeing That I was wandering The dreamscape of The wonderers of The wanderers That still wonder;— A dreamscape All my own and Still not mine. I found myself Moseying with The meanderers; Found we were Bound by an Identical path, One of us being Leisurely, the Other clueless. Me, moseying, Smelled the rose Of the meanderer, Who, meandering, Saw me moseying And assumed I simply walked Slowly; he also Failed to see That he held A flower in his Unmindful hand. I found myself Sleepwalking Amongst the Somnambulists, Questioning their Dreamscapes, Why wandering Them apparently Was pleasing. And they cursed Me, declaring, "What can a "Sleepwalker "Know about "Somnambulism?" So I found myself Sleepwalking Amongst the Somnambulists, The somnambulists somnambulating Over us Sleepwalkers' Heads, demanding We succumb To the greater Mindful power. I found myself Graveled by The grovelers— Irritated by The peasants. The grovelers, They grovel for Me not to be Graveled at Their mistakes. Yet the mistake Is the groveling At the graveled; And how graveled At the grovelers I am. It is a circular Conversation— The grovelers Shall die in The dungeons Of the graveled, Trapped in Perpetuation.