the dance of a delirious mind
is like the swirling of colors
that is mixed in a palette,
with the bristles of a brush
that lightly strokes the blank canvas.
colors running down
with every glide of soft bristles,
like tears slowly rolling down
on satin soft cheeks that were once kissed
the dance of a delirious mind
is like a million dreams coalescing,
slowly forming into one,
flickering and flashing,
until they merge into a whole.
dreams of hopes and fears,
of nightmares and daydreams,
that were once trying to escape
but now blending together,
to form a better dream with you in it.
-The Elusive Scribe 082713-
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-
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-
I want to be the first smile you’ll see
and the lips you want to kiss.
I want to be the one who’ll fix you breakfast
and pour you a cup of coffee.
I want to be the one who waves to you goodbye
when you’re off to work.
I want to be the one who calls you from time to time
telling you how much I’ve missed you.
I want to be the reason you come home in a rush
not just because dinner is served but because I am
I want to be the one who tucks you at night
and wraps you in my arms holding you tight.
I want to be the one who chases away your nightmares
and replaces them with better dreams.
I want to be the one who will hold your hands,
even when they are lined with age.
I want to be the one who’ll still be able to
bring that smile on your face,
even when you no longer remember who I am.
And I want to be the one you’ll miss the most
when I am no longer by your side.