• If you read this,
    You're not sleeping,
    You're a witness,
    Of concious dreaming.

    You can breathe,
    But you can't fight,
    You can see,
    What's out of sight.

    That obstructed color,
    You see dwindle,
    Will only bother,
    Those who swindle.

    This feeling will perish,
    This feeling will part,
    Unless you nourish,
    And see through the art.

    You must hold back,
    The feeling inside,
    That constant attack,
    Soon it will bide.

    You musn't hide,
    Creatures of despair,
    Control the tide,
    But aren't really there.