Madness once pumped through
these veins, this blood a fire, casting
strange shadows flickering along
the walls of my imagination. Aware
of how beginningless are dreams,
as if we in sleep join a powerful
flow somewhere in the slums of
eternity, this dream crept further,
a poor substitute for a prophecy,
but enough a stream to carry my
spirit away in its currents. No,
perhaps I have not always been
here, after all. Perhaps I have
traveled through the rivers of my
blood into that beginningless
dreaming, and I, come back into
my mind, read the marks on the
walls of my imagination, the ghosts
who had signed it while I was away,
and I understand how little I
understand. What have I learned?
On this ground where I set my feet,
I may look out to where I was adrift:
this life, too, is a dreaming that we
join, and I think one day to awake.
me?!
3:21pm saturday, 26th april
you have learnt quite a lot i think,do not despair,you will understand it all in good time,I believe..
me?!