the besieged images of surreal consciousness
flood my sleep with nocturnal dramas of
florescent fantasies- epiphanies...
resulting into forces of mythological proportions
dancing away to the horizon.
what is the reality of the real if not attained by
the immense nostalgia of perpetual euphemisms?
the constant cacophony of morning birds
rages through the thick forests,
charring the wildfires of natural decadence.
the slow progression of muted beings result
into the multilingual zones of the crowded
beatings on the musical strings of unrequited love.
the illusion of senseless rationale gives away
to awareness on a different level of supranatural
cessation of earthly desires and greeds.
silence tiptoes into my skin,
wrangling my soul and
swirling into the unknown.