As I open my eyes, the tide of the soul
pulls back my dream, slithering into oblivion.
I struggle to remember from deep within.
Half faces, fractured voices and shadowed symbols.
Further back the tide pulls.
The theatre of slumber has a distant thunder.
Memory of the dream is just a blunder.
Morning's reality is chasing me down.
As my thoughts plunge into that inner ocean.
Sleep clutches her secret potion.
Until black night returns,
To once again seize my soul.