“This poem needs some work. Any suggestions? Not that I want anyone to write it for me, but I think it would be interesting to see what some of you think.”
Awake,
lift your head out of peaceful sleep
and see the phantoms of your dreams
realized in morning light transformed
percieve,
when the film, worn to protect ones sight of mind,
like blinders shielding you from passing time
becomes transluscent, and new wonders filtered, for the first time,
through the reticulum of your reborn eyes
are realized truly in the enigmatic affirmation of mystery
decieved,
you are yet with held from apprehension
conduits which were improperly placed
and no longer have the strength nor faith
to find the proper door disolve, and dangerously
approach the state at which they naturally dissipate
It is then one understands
that only now may you begin
in a vast ocean, no sail, no paddle, and no sight of shore.
No closer to the answer of the riddle than you were before.