Silver Somnium
I awake and fall repetitively within structured dreams,
Marveled light spanning across the floor bathed in silver.
I don’t nest myself in a frame that has been shut as a shell;
I watch the hours that come with the passing of late autumn,
Struck in awe that my memories are engulfed in nostalgia,
Waiting for the warmth of a life I have yet to embrace.
The quiet dark is a heavy cloak I have learned to embrace,
Lost in the sensory skin that still wanders through my dreams.
Child’s play does not merit my sense of fleeting nostalgia,
Held securely as if adorned by this imaginary thread of silver;
The faint passing of hours is lost in the chill of late autumn,
And I still grasp that my core is locked as a perpetual shell.
But I sense that this defense is a bashful, cracked shell,
Playing as it may with the shadows I attempt to embrace.
I still seek the golden splendor in the warmth of late autumn,
Returning to the gate of those immense and unattainable dreams.
My light is still hidden there—a pot of precious silver,
Haunted by the rhythm of a perpetual and unglamorous nostalgia.
I wonder why I keep reliving this immense sense of nostalgia,
Locked in a room, finding cold comfort inside a shell.
Vivid remain the shadows of light and distant silver,
Encased still by the wrappings as if tied together to embrace.
I have tossed and turned awake in this vision of dreams,
Watching the leaves scattered across the ground in late autumn.
Caught by the faint splendor of nature’s demure late autumn,
I wrap my mind in this constant sense of nostalgia.
Still bringing forth the vivid creation of my dreams,
I have fought with the constraints of this prison-like shell.
My destiny is aligned with this truth I must learn to embrace,
Shining through the heavy darkness, a precious thread of silver.
My eyes are open wide to catch the final gleam of silver—
Fleeting and brilliant fragments left behind by late autumn.
This thread leads me out of the dark as I step forward to embrace,
Leaving the haze that fades into soft nostalgia.
I will no longer hide my fragile heart away inside a shell,
Awakening at last from the cage of these structured dreams.
I wake, unbound, from dreams to find the guiding silver,
Leaving the cold shell to the chill of late autumn.
Free from the grip of nostalgia, I step forward to embrace.
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