Wakefulness has come to be
A pale respite, a poignant dream
Reality has paled and ceased
To be of real devoir to me.

Amongst the living, I trail the dead
That intone from the Netherlands
And in their voices, they do spread
The need to meet their languished hands.

There in the dusk's cerulean shores
Towards the night's sapphire core from
Whence winged creatures dart and soar
I sleep to leave what I abhor.

With Morpheus I cast aside
The shell from which by day reside
In chiaroscuro paradise
I lift my head to meet your eyes.

By day you're nothing, dust and ash
And memories that shall not last
By night, draw breath, return to me,
Come back to life within my dreams.



*Original, Un-rhymed Notes:

The waking world has become surreal
After everything that's happened
All things are a pale shade of what they used to be
Those that aren't here call out to me louder than the scores of the living
I feel them, carried with me
Clinging, pulling me back towards
dreams.

I see them there, whole and unscathed