When The Dreamer Awakes
I pray that it may rain like fire for my eyes are dim
and my love is tired.
May the wind blow my treasure in pleasant places
upon the laps of those that believe in me so that in
my search a smile can rest upon their faces.
I have had diamonds but I’ve thrown them to the
ground,
there is a horror that replays in my mind that I’ll
never own what I’ve built with my own mouth.
Only the mistakes are remembered the good
intentions are forgotten,
a clouded mind that once took pride in God-fearing
inventions now his eyes are filled with watching
them being judged, mocked, revised, and then
disassembled,
the heart aches for the imagination is rotting even
the stench smells as perfume.
Have you ever seen a thought move?
It doesn’t walk, crawl, or fly but blossoms like a
constellation at night,
at first unknown but familiar like once a
schizophrenic beholds her own smile,
then it floats like prayers from a six y.o. straight
into the nostrils of God.
A place where fear is clothed with the pages of your
triumphant biography and loneliness sits with itself
for the first time...
Seven seconds later it dies.
As the ocean forgets weight depression loses its
mind,
it never ends but this is the end of time.
Without a memory of the past days taste better and
you can drink your smiles,
you no longer dream in hours but miles,
forget yesterday for an escape is simply a vulnerable
orison away than you can take your bow.
For you have weathered the storm and are
beginning to see the dry land,
who would’ve thought that gorgeous paintings
could be birthed from cut dry hands and the same voice that
screamed for help speak diamonds?
It is here finally... What kept him awake with tears
asking for death now defines him.