The clock cycles on
On as I sit
And think
Imagining what the future holds,
Slipping into a trance,
As the minutes dance onwards
But I am going nowhere

I silently ponder
Encased by wonder
As the world passes me by
A once bright future
tarnished by reality’s harsh grip
Tears a rip in my defenses
As my senses return.

So I wonder
Did it truly happen?
Was I sent back again
To learn better
Or is it possible
To dream an entire life
In one lonely hour?
To imagine great triumphs and great sorrow alike
So thoroughly that they seemed real?

Does one hour
Truly possess such power
Over the fragile human psyche?
The key, our greatest tool,
To our dominance of the planet
So vulnerable it can be shattered
In mere hours
That seem halfway to forever
Yet shorter than a breathe at the same time