It’s a dream of survival. This world made of mass
Is a fugue of impermanence and enigma.
From the time of conception there’s no turning back.
Life is on the defensive for fear of attack
From the life become part of. This hard replica
Of reality can be a pain in the ass.
Yet, it’s all just a dream, manufactured and played
Like a cheap sci-fi movie with elements of
Situational comic relief. Tragically
Actors perform unscripted so others can’t see
How the drama plays out. Thus, there is need for love
In this Dream Between Dreams where my spirit has strayed.
Does survival lack joy? Is the nightmare by day
Something I can see any way other than that?
Any dream is as ethereal as the next.
When perceiving the harshness do I become hexed
By forgone mis-conclusions through mental chitchat?
It’s a dream worth engaging with in my own way.