Unfocused
"This life we live is a strange dream, and I don't believe at all any account men give of it."
Henry David Thoreau
Unfocused, my eyes were
Only a silhouette I did see
Only the outline of a soldier
As I struggled to be free
In a moment, I realized
It was just a fitful dream
And my thoughts crystallized
As I was about to scream
What did I dream about?
Why did I struggle so?
Why did I almost shout?
Did I dream of friend or foe?
I tried hard to remember
But my mind’s as good as blank
At dream’s end, I saw a soldier
Though I can’t say what rank
So my whole day’s but a trance
Only the nightmare on my mind
I’m racking my brain; by chance
The meaning of my dream, I’d find
As night came, I am petrified
Hesitant to relive the nightmare
All my senses are electrified
My courage gone somewhere
Yet I wish the nightmare to come back
For I really want to find out
Under pressure, maybe I’d crack
But I need to know what it’s about!
Is it just my mind playing a trick?
Or did I get a message from on high?
Maybe my conscience trying to speak
I can’t rest till I know why
07-07-2024
© Vic Evora
All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.
T. E. Lawrence
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