I escaped into the dream
where waking pain could be fled
there the ache found new soil
to bloom unasked behind my eyes
a cast of thousands with recourse
bent to ask the hard questions
about the truths I thought secret
a curse I long to take once more.

The deceased found new life
I’m called out to resolve
with my accepting of that farce
asking why I chose the paths
they alone saw my bent heart
this is the story in nightmare’s grasp
demanding flesh for the scourge
in repetition as nights progress.

Disreality became a word
bending shape ponder why
then turning toward the trivial
as if the answers were to be feared
this jailed freedom born of desire
behind the walls topped by clouds
where lies are relished far too much
verity moves from high above.

Conviction written with a pen
tortured scripts by my hand
with the blocking that transcends
avoidance found and then abused
there I find I can escape
from the pain with just a thought
wake to a world that I detest
perhaps I’ll sleep to dream again.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180421.