There I lay on the cool grass, the cold wind on my face,
my eyes shut as I began to create nothingness,
darkness and emptiness. Who am I, my soul bared?
And then I dreamt, my darkness gave birth.
Like a painter giving life to a blank canvas,
I gave life to my endless thoughts, my void of emptiness,
and soon there was light—
pictures, words, sounds, dreaming.
I dreamt myself a new life. I was a curious poet
traveling the vast earth in search of a new muse, and for this dream,
a star was inscribed into my empty space
like words jotted on paper.
The star illuminated my empty space,
lit up my soul, as it held within its fiery life my dreams.
and the poet resided in its light, patiently waiting.
And so it began, an endless cycle of creation and destruction—
my empty space, brightening with the light of my dreams.
But for each star that was born, another was torn from my soul.
For each dream that crumbled, another formed in its place.
And time is not my friend. I was uncertain which star I would hold in the end,
because I knew I wanted them all.
And as I lay beneath the fig tree, reality convoluted upon itself—
it began to fade, as my mind searched, dreamt, and cried for more.
But time is not my friend, and time future does not exist in time present.
And time past can never be regained—fragmented memories,
left to the whispers of history.
And in this space of uncertainty, my soul lay bare, sure of only one thing:
I had successfully dreamt away my life.
please bare with me guys this is my first poem and I know its bad :sob:
