Last night, as I dozed, I had a dream,

But what would a dream be but a bitter gleam-

of a thought-cycle loop, a mash then release,

a randomized chemical silence and  ease.

A mosaic I saw, and color so vividly,

Open eyes til they're raw,

glass glitter,  fire-light-beam,

Such ruby such gold, such massive green lights,

shards of turquois untold, a mass of glass flight. 

I feel as though my poetry shows up just jumbled and shit. I WOULD  simplify it just for the sake of comprehention but hey that's the art of poetry, having your own perspective and understandings of it, even if it's far from what i really meant.