Where a Dreamers Head May Rest

I lay in the depth of the comfort of my bed as the light of the new moon shines.

My imagination, an unpredictable sea of desires, but as bright as the starlit sky.

I sleep night by day but dream day by night.

I can be everything and anything all at once.

But it is time that separates a dream from a bed.

The time between laying down,

and the time where we close our eyes and are dragged down, down, down.

Down in to the abyss like nature of a dream.

Where anything is possible and nothing is what it seems.

 

I lay on my bed which is finer than the smoothest silk,

and softer than the biggest feather.

Then I make myself a mental letter.

To keep my eyes shut until I go.

Now my eyes are shut and my breath is slow.

I relax for a moments rest, and when the moment passes, I am at rest,

by the portal down below.

 

I stand before my dream and it before.

It reaches out its hand and grabs me, so I try to break free.

But it is too late.

I am gone and not awake.

It pulls me down, down, down into the abyss of my imagination.

Which happens to be my greatest fascination.

And all this can happen every night.

Sometimes it gives me a fright.

But enjoy your imagination and enjoy your dream.

Because if you're left wondering, you'll never know where it might have led.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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