Dreams

Dreams are strange 

I’ve found, I wonder

What causes them to be this way

Some are pleasant, joyful even

Others only cause dismay

They are the origin of my poems sometimes

It’s quite a strange phenomenon 

Borne out of nightmares sometimes

Or light that fades away

They’re flickering images

Strange visions at times

Nightmare-esque potential

Poems built to rhyme

Otherworldly narratives

In which chaos reigns supreme

Constant changing images

From where the stars gleam 

Picture book scenes

Drifting across a static screen

Playing in mind

Like puppeteer strings dangling high

Paralyzed by a sense of fear

Limbic system overdrive

A knee jerk here, a toss and turn there

The world is ablaze in dreams everywhere

A new universe waiting to be found

Whether one is sent to drown

Under gigantic waves, tides of mind

Flowing in eternal time

Sandstorms crack like a whip

Haunted mansions ensnare us in a trip

Houses that don’t feel like homes

Ever so living alone

Dreams that draw on insecurities

Fear of public speaking, of being seen

Of never being loved or heard or touched

Known to a world that doesn’t care enough

For all we are is strangers

Whether in dreams or reality

To longing lost dangers 

Ever searching for more victims to seek

The fears that play in mind are real

Drawing upon reality

For what more is a dream, my dear

But pure insanity?