These dreams I have when I lay to rest
Blotted people and things, parading, enmeshed
They visit me to tell me tales
Adventures, people, conflicted souls
These dreams have no meaning to the conscious mind
My unconscious sub-conscious speaks in riddles and rhythms
What they say, I am yet to know
Perhaps they speak of the seeds I have sown
My conscious mind tries to decipher
Perplexing puzzles my mind has conjured
But my conscious mind enjoys being sane
In my unconscious my dreams should remain
Quietly loud they speak in my slumber
Painting pictures of battles within
Gentle reminders of some of my sins
My dreams when I rest they show me the way
Where I was, where I am and where I might be today
My dreams like book marks to my life
Recall pleasures and pains of my days
These dreams I have when I lay to rest
I live and breathe with my every step
Will they end when death knocks
Of that I'm not sure
Till then I will dream
Till these dreams, my dreams are no more
I have of late taken the view that no matter how rebellious, unconventional, non-conformist we would like to think ourselves, we are at some point always part of a similar grouping of people. We are never truly leaders, but followers. Followers, I prefer to refer to us as sheep; because at one point or another in our life we are all sheep. This is a place to express myself, vent my frustration with the sheepdom, and relieve my boredom. It is my therapy for all that contributes to my neurosis.
Friday, September 4, 2009
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