Dialectic Dreams
Many of them stay
Dialectic dreams,
Deciphering the myths,
Nothings as it seems,
Or are they ancient gifts?
It seems that they are real,
Then I am awake,
And everything I feel,
From real now seems fake.
It is a sign that thoughts align,
Then march into a scene,
And then they define,
Everything they’ve been.
Dreams are scenes of chaos,
Or hopes that won’t come true,
A sense I’m in a séance,
That flew out of the blue.
When I awake I try to shake,
The remnants far away,
Though I know for heaven’s sake,
Many of them stay.
Some thoughts linger longer,
Whilst others like a sneeze,
Even when it’s stronger,
Are blown by the breeze.
In the end there’s others,
Gain strength in my mind,
And the other smothers,
And leave that thought behind.
Dialectic dreams,
The dangerous diadems,
Everything it seems,
Seen through coloured lens.
Copyright reserved
David Rudder
10th December 2019
Thanks for reading.
