Faces obscure themselves in the light
And reveal themselves in the dark.
Beneath the cold sun I drift,
Somnambulant in my meandering,
Through the crowds of unseeing scrutinisers.
My mind is in my mind,
A fragmented echo of something once truly fearful,
Retracting and rescinding infinitely into itself.
Time changes its speed and I am lost,
At the mercy of the "real world".
Eluded have we been,
Those of us who are woken from a night awake
By the visions of the unconscious
That our cohabitants have been privy to.
And so, to compensate, our days become dreams.
YOU ARE READING
An Ongoing Anthology of Poetry
PoetryThis is a collection of the poetry that I have written and been writing since around about October 2018. Naturally, not every poem has been of a decent enough standard to be included here, but the ones that have been included are the ones that I lik...
