Back when fate was something so true we could hold it in our atlas laced hands things might have been different.
You may think that life can only be an ever consuming sleep but I wish to remind you that does not inhibit us from dreaming.
I believe that one day I will wake up with a knowing;
grasping at any tendril of that which may have been left behind,
with unconsciousness still lingering in my vision.
We learn, criticize and hope
laying in piles of uncreated art.
It is a sad comfort to be human;
a relief much comparable to tearing yourself from a particularly terrible dream.
And we will startle,
again and again,
repeating lines for emphasis,
until we find the truth.
It is then that the dream is over and we return to what is.
I'll talk about God until I meet him in the middle.
I'll talk about God until he comes to me in that dream.
I sleep on my stomach with my back to the stars
and I send my condolences to the moon.