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The Sandman
January 18, 2009
A spread of opaque dream
Strikes my hidden vision
Dampened in mist
To exist in front of my eyes
Sleep’s extensive fingers
Coated in glistening black
Create frigid crumbling cracks
Shattering trance to lies
So we beg for light
Scrambling for grasps
Of remnants, of shaded vapor
Our personal shards of time
Yet as desperation protrudes
From my throat, from my lips
Sleep and instance, irrevocably intertwined
Run to their haven, my enemy’s divine
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