Drifting in, drifting out,
Laying in this archway of dawn,
One foot in consciousness, one without,
The mind struggling to distinguish,
What is real, what isn't.

All night, traversing through realms,
Desires, fears, ecstasy, numbness,
Scrambling through the spectrum of visibility.

You were there.
It was springtime again,
The birds heralding the break of day,
And we were back on a field of unbroken promises,
On a trip down memory lane,
Where silence was a stranger,
Where the valleys were uncharted by emptiness.

I have learned to tell myself this isn't real,
I know when morning finally comes,
Darkness will fall.

All paths lead to dead ends,
And you chose the road frequently traveled,
A thorn had stopped me on my tracks,
But when I look up, I am all alone at the crossroads,
I call out and you're out of earshot,
On a path where I'm unwelcome.
And now the sun is setting.
This dream will be over soon.

My eyes open,
It's 12 past 8.
The sun greeting those escaping their slumber.
Both feet on the same side of the archway.
But the lingering darkness still stays,
And the crossroads still remain,
Empty.