subterranean metaphor

Somnambulant visions persist,
despite a wakeful vigilance.

A splendid foolishness bursts forth.

The rich-red flowing fire of neglected and abandoned desire,
ignites the mind to far-flung spasms.

Primal monsters grunt and screech.

Vertical walls of wet stone echo from the abyss,
the drunken violence of a tortured soul.

Yet the cool liquids of aquamarine,
azure blue and malachite green
can slake the thirst and silence the scream.

Then put to rest the somnambulant dream