The Last Dream

Perchance to dream dark and deep and lose yourself in sleep…

The Last Dream


I

Come with me now as we wander and we search
For the source of all the tales told on this Earth.
Thence turn thoughts untold to days of old
So begins the quest for love or fame or gold.

Eyes closed, mind at rest far from the bustling day
We find peace and joys and loves and other ways
To help offset life and rebirth us with new fire.
At times we even realize our wishes and life’s desire.

Or not. It seems some force conspires to hold our life
In some cosmic game that throws at us pain and strife.
All we deserve is just beyond our ken and reach
Words are not so easily found to aid our speech.

Are not our dreams sacred and a place of refuge?
We hope and pray but see no cash deluge.
But dreams can be roads to gold and wealth
For some, or do we find only void and death?

In all lands known far and wide
In sleep he watches by our side.


II

More often our quest for treasure eludes us
Finding no bounty nor even justice.
When we awake restless not at peace
We wonder what causes our ill ease.

Questions linger in our waking moments
Images flash unclear as only remnants
Blurred images withdraw from day’s light
Unknowingly we are saved for another night.


Yet, while in the deep dark innocence of sleep
The blind world knows not of the denizens of the deep.
Realize now your night belongs to the beast
Whose terror strikes heroes not the least.


We heed no warnings knowing we can wake
From any image or terror our mind can make.
But often the love and beauty turn much worse
Quickly caught and bound in some feared curse.


In all lands known in west or east
He thrives on souls of men for his feast.



III



Too late we learn the pleasures have a cost
Something dear, much loved, is likely to be lost.
Yet the pull is strong to reign us in the grasp
Of frights and traps and demon’s bloody clasp.


Too late to turn from the stench and sight
Struggling more in your mind than might.
You can’t turn - your thoughts freeze as you squirm
As arms and legs are useless, mere worms.


Mind and thoughts seem slow and jumbled
Mid slush and slime and beastly rumble.
So now your body mind and soul are numb
As you are he, all else no more, the heart succumbs.


Those who grapple grudge and grut
Among the sinewy smelly smut.
Entrails unfold unclaimed, devoured or sold
Provide unbidden pleasures none today behold.


In all lands known in times awake or sleep
He thrives on souls of men as they weep.



Diggerdug
03/16/13