A glass
darkly
After the
rabbit hole comes the blankness
a
wonderland of nothing echoing
silence
where there was a life. Tea parties
of grief
where grins are feeble and see-through:
madness
lurking behind every empty
cup. To
shrink to the size of a dormouse
would be
ideal but the potion no longer
works even
if it insists on being
drunk. So
you sit before the stained looking
glass
peering at the past. You want to step
through
but the rabbit is always too late
and time
only moves backwards in stories.
In the dark
In the
dark silence of the night,
when sleep
has filled the house at last,
my dreams
embark on their own flight.
I search
for mountains of delight
where moon
glow leaves an eerie cast
in the
dark silence of the night.
For ice
has carved out caverns bright
where
nightmares try to hold me fast,
yet still
dreams leave on their own flight.
In
snow-filled drifts of startling white
I fight
with monsters from my past
through
the dark silence of the night.
While
coldness tries to sap my might
embracing
with its freezing blast
my dreams
respond with their own flight.
Although I
often lose the fight,
as
haunting shades are strong and vast,
in the
dark silence of the night
my dreams
survive most every flight.
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