It's 2 a.m. and for the life of me
I can’t sleep. Perhaps too many iced green
Teas. It doesn’t bother me you see
Not getting rest I mean, it’s the caffeine
That keeps me awake and I miss dreaming
Dreams that I turn into reality.
Those pleasant visions become the real thing:
A contrived visual modality.
Awake I’m between
A paradoxical dream
And veracity
In this state I know who I really am
Because I am the creator of them.
A fluid existence into this realm
Where all I dream is at my command.
The rules of conduct
Are for myself to decide
I’m the one in charge
Experiment with my thoughts and beliefs
with elaborated dream-scape motifs.
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