mirrors are used to tell you the truth within dreams
their memory goes further back than a day's length
you, the human, are dreaming of eden, an undiscovered maze
the night restlessly sells off her estranged gaze

shadows are flowing through your spinning mind
you see a child, contemplatively engaged in a game
not willing to follow any caring orders; you are glowing
as you are trying to hide yourself under a blanket of knowing

future has decayed, you have to blink, you have to smile
a century's crippled hands are grabbing at your truncated tongue
not even words, terms, speech and language remain
while rain is dripping from leaves, leaving its stain

asleep, you taste the bitter broth of your dream
the gods of the woods are coming for you, in amusement
the dog of voices is barking at his shadow; you are burping
while you hear the muzzle of your dream delightfully slurping