The Dreams

                             From the day and into the night I fled;
                             And while asleep, my head upon its bed,
                             The door flew open and entered the dream
                             Into the brain’s sleep poured this flowing stream.
                             Like a game that can not wait to be played,
                             A cascade of pieces formed the parade.

                             The dream’s game played repeatedly each night
                             As if it were trying to get it right.
                             Winding the bends trying to find an end,
                             An end the mind did not want to befriend.
                             In this sleep as the end approaches
                             Consciousness refuses and encroaches.

                             As the sun rolls behind the Eastern hills
                             Then from twilight the darkness tips and spills,
                             And the body reclines upon the sheet
                             Then the dream enters trying to complete.
                             Rapping and tapping to get through the door
                             Starting nightly just as the night before.

                             Moving the pieces through the maze and mist
                             Seeking the finish that’s nightly dismissed.
                             Within the drifting fog is the dreams log,
                             The log eternally stuck in this bog;
                             Now seeking release along a new path
                             The persistent dream to reveal its wrath.

                             Always the same but in different ways
                             As the reluctant brain it tries to sway.
                             Each night through the gate, the will hesitates;
                             But into mistiness, the dream migrates.
                             Through a maze of tall and rounded white stones
                             To the tones of what sounds like shaking bones.

                             Deeper and deeper than ever before
                             Until I’m standing in front of a door;
                             This door that sits behind an iron-gate
                             And from deep within I hear the bones grate.
                             Standing there I’m facing a sepulcher
                             As darkness consumes me like a cancer.

                             Why o’ why have you brought me to this place?
                             Why o’ dream do my hands wrap and embrace
                             The gate that bars the entrance to this grave?
                             Awaken my mind, awaken, and save,
                             Take me away from this most dreadful day;
                             But not on this night, this night you betray.

                             Now I hear grate of bones in my ears
                             And as it nears it gives rise to more fears.
                             There’s a squeak as the tomb door opens wide;
                             I’m trembling- it was death that I eyed.
                             Peering through the iron-gate death stared at me;
                             And from its sight this night, I tried to flee.

                             The game was finished and the dream had won;
                             The moves were complete the dream was now done.
                             Not as before when lights dimmed in the east
                             The dream returns for a different feast.
                             As now I sleep behind the gate in peace
                             With the grate of bones that will never cease.

                             The dreams of the ghost of a dying man
                             Reached from the grave with a sinister plan.
                             The plan to bury the man with his pain
                             Bringing him into the world of the slain.
                             Now from behind the locked door come the moans
                             Heard through the maze of stones covering bones.