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We Are No Longer Dreamers

We are no longer dreamers of this land
we refuse to listen with our hearts
and our eyes are already blinded
Our thoughts are starting to fade
as we simply follow the tide
Where are the dreamers? The fighters?
The thinkers?
Where are our voices that we used to speak?
Where is the hunger that drives us?
Is this our moment of forgetfulness,
of being washed away into nothingness?
Or is still there a tiny spark of life
waiting to be fanned into brilliant
and blinding light that can banish the shadows
of what we have become today?

-The Elusive Scribe 02082017-

 

 

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Dream King

dream

You sit on your throne watching in silence
the dreams of dreamers as they fall asleep.
As night slowly comes and deepens by the hour,
the breath of deep sleep stirs from within.
You cast your dream dust on eyes that are closed,
giving life to their wildest imaginations.
You smile with amusement as their dreams come alive,
transforming themselves into nightmares that haunt their waking minds,
until they wake up screaming and sweating, unable to fall asleep.
How sad it must have been, not to be able to catch some zees,
but then again you are the Dream King, the watcher of dreams.
Sleep is not for you for your power lies in the dreaming.
And so you sit on your throne in silence, with a smile playing on your lips,
watching the dreams of dreamers as they sleep.

-The Elusive Scribe 073013-

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Nightmares

creeping shadows that slither and slide,
on cracks and spaces on the edges of a dream.
transforming themselves into nightmares
only the mind can conjure in its sleep.
devilish eyes with gap toothed grins
dragging souls screaming into the night.
calling for help, crying to the heavens,
but the stars only twinkle in their silence.
afraid to shine bright to dispel the shadows
that come to claim the dreams of dreamers
in their precious sleep.
stuffed in mouths greedy with hunger
for dreams that are ripe for the taking.
they munch and grind harvested souls
through chipped teeth stained with
fading memories and decaying dreams,
until all that is left of them is dust taken by the wind.

-The Elusive Scribe 071213-