Dreamscape

 

My body would course over through the night. 

Waking upon each hour. 

    Ruptured mind in time. 

I knew it had to do with you. Instantly. 

  As if you can't sleep. 

     As if you are at the crux of me. 

Sound asleep, but jolted out of no-thing

  Into the waking sound 

Of the 3am air. Then 4. 

  And then no more...

Sleep at all, rather in the veil 

  Rather just another scrying session 

As an Oracle on the wall. 

  I have a million and one detriments to attend to 

Hardly feigning, giving a fuck at all. 

  But you...

Are not that. 

And the last few nights...

  As sometimes the visions come in rides...

I had hardly any rest at all, 

  Sleeping hours in waking dreams, 

And arousing nonetheless, 

   Exhausted,

As per usual when I go of Lucid in Walking

Replete 

   In not one thing at all. 

That is until a friend's call. 

  Cat's come home. 

 And without asking, 

  Stores show up in abundance. 

That is until God remind's us 

  That we are provided for; 

Everything we need, we are given in Him. 

Laughter. Pavement talks. Joints and weed. 

  Card readings for the Catholic bestie

    And the inane humor of such an irony. 

Her eyes open wider with me, 

  Always against my wing anyhow. 

Another Angel descended. 

  Mind's leaning together 

Eye Opening. 

Is there any better thing...

  Than a true best friend? 

The Laughter between two, 

   That clarifies the air? 

The audacity to (still) dream,

  And together in that we share?!

A youth rivaled in age, yet naive with hope 

   Still? 

How is it, any of us...

  Still manage to cling 

To the fool's ideology 

  Of chasing a life long dream? 

Yet...

  So many reaching...

Have shown those of us still climbing...

What it is to attain! 

  Still, 

I see now...

I am Battle weary. To the every essence of such a state.  Diminished. 

Replete only in the tiniest of things,

  Like stolen micro-samples 

       On a platter. 

It is not satiation. 

  It is not satiation yet. 

Yet...

Soak me then in a pool 

  Of everything I need. 

Hands then upon my chest, 

   The soft wet of lips dampened by tongue. 

A vacation of saturation. 

  A very demanded healing. Of Spoiling. 

I think I've earned, 

  My War feast upon returning home. 

His Queen of Swords takes her post. 

  Wins in the victory of virtue. 

The Blood Battle Shed now, 

  Along with Armor and Sword. 

Celebration in the Air...

  But she must retire. 

Must score her feet. 

  Must recover of battle 

With Sanctuaried retreat. 

As while she does...

  The kingdom will Course. 

But this AM, 

  She tosses, quite so tosses 

        In her sleep. 

Riddled by dreams of what she's seen, 

  And the further of Lucid walking escape...

It is not just this realm 

  She Knight's away for...

Rather this is the one she'd chose 

  A 3D anchoring...

A mission read 

  Like Joan of Arc

Born someone else. 

This maiden of iron...

  The Samurai of blood

This harbinger, A deathly angel 

So much dark, in so much good 

That is the dichotomy 

Ever and Now

In which, 

       

         She dwells.