Lullaby

A Poem by Clouded0ne

I really hate describing my own work! I'm just here for counsel and advice! So please read! Comment and read my work and I'll do the same for yours!

[A Lullaby]

when a man wakes from his restless sleep,
his mind replays the visions that guided him through the night.

dreams; joyous images that move so rapidly, so fluid --

dreams; joyous images that for a but a brief, satisfied moment, harmonize like an orchestra.

dreams; a composition of luminosity, shedding our outer darkness and revealing the inherent inner light.

when this man rises from the entombed slumber,
his blood-stained eyes dart while his heart pulsates in fright.

nightmare; crippling thoughts manifested into a frightening reality --

nightmare; crippling thoughts that burden the soul, highlighting and amplifying his weaknesses.

nightmare; a solitude that devours in its hunger and isolates so thoroughly, so destructively, that only light-piercing darkness could remain.

ordinarily, this man finds solace and a sense of the familiar laced throughout his nightmares...
ordinarily, this man is blinded by the darkness - a light-less vision of life that exists only to amplify his anxiety...
ordinarily, this man gazes only upon the wicked, the relentless, the sorrowful, the guilty...
ordinarily, he rises much like a zombie, void of mind and spiritually uninhabited...

and then...
...heart stopping...
...heart pounding...
...life affirming...
...life encouraging...
...all encompassing...

and then...
...heart stopping...

he sees no longer darkness, nor even only light.
he sees now how seductive the dance between the two truly is.
he knows now you can only embrace the rhythm,
he knows you must ride the current,
he knows you must swing on the spiral,
to swim and bathe in the light,
while still dipping his toes into the darkness.

he sees no longer dreams or nightmares,
he sees now only experience,
he sees within the agony of his night terrors,
through the mistakes that until then haunted him.
he sees beyond the desperation of the unknown --

he and any who claim it would be lying should they suggest they strive only to find the light within the darkness.
he and any who claim it are deceptive when they say they always find a way to see the good within the bad.
because they would be ignoring what their muse has inspired of them,

because he would not look at his mate with such emotional bias, only acknowledging their positive qualities,
because, thanks to his muse, he loves not only the sum of her parts,
he's not critical of her dark, angst imbued, nightmare inducing inner demons,
nor does he worship her inner spirit, kindness, or dreamlike attributes...

he loves her for her, and would not have her any other way;
he would not erase her pain nor would he remind her only of her joys;
he would not look only for what lies on the surface,
because he will adore just as much what lies within.

he rises, content, rested... sleep uninterrupted.
he wakes, rubs his eyes, and smiles...
beside him, a love that is inspired and strengthened by enduring life's nightmarish scars and life's precious, divine moments.

and finally she wakes and says with a smile,
'it's you.'

and he looks at her with the same smile, while looking within the white, and then into the darkness of her eyes, seeing not a million fragmented pieces, but instead, a whole woman, a vessel to contain a lifetime of triumphs and tribulations, love and agony, strength and weakness...

and he says,
'it's me. thanks for waking me. because any unconscious moment - nightmare or dream - is a moment without you. and that is what i truly cannot bear.'