I Might Be Dead Or I Could Be Dreaming

by MyMuse   Mar 27, 2008


I think I'm standing in a garden at night
The distant stars provide the only light
Stranger flowers grow all around me
Their heavy fragrance intoxicates me

Reality is slowly growing dimmer
And I begin to see a new world shimmer
It's like seeing through a silver haze
Into a weird but beautiful place

Filled with dreams I begin to wonder
Through this maze of allen wonders
Into glades with ponds of starlight
Ethereal beauty beyond human might

And I see statues moving, moving within a trance
With slow gestures, in a grotesque dance
To the mystical and haunting tunes
That fills this place like narcotic fumes

I might be dead, or maybe even dreaming?
It doesn't matter. It has no meaning
In this world of black and silver

Then this dream-state takes and evil twist
And all the sudden rises a reeking mist
The air turns foul by the sickening haze
Corruption spreads throughout the maze
Malignant shadows with lurid eyes
Roars of laughter as the beauty dies
Insane whispers and bestial groans
Mingle with my tormented moans

I might be dead or maybe I can even be dreaming...?
It doesn't matter. It has no meaning
In this world of black and silver

3


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Latest Comments

  • 4 months ago

    by Milo

    And I see statues moving, moving within a trance
    With slow gestures, in a grotesque dance
    To the mystical and haunting tunes
    That fills this place like narcotic fumes

    This stanza is the best one I can grasp. The subtlety of emotions are at play here but on a deeper level, and I imagine the statues like slowly dancing mannequins which are emotionless and barren to the outside world, representing a metaphorical connection of feeling emptiness on the outside, but filled with emotions that are exploding on the inside. Intentional or not, Its a great reversal and an ingenious way to describe how someone may be overwhelmed with these emotions like "narcotic fumes," but no one can see your pain or your beauty because like statues and mannequins, you can't move and people don't see identity; they only see an empty shell in an empty prison of the mind personified like a reflection of a human being without a soul. Dancing without a soul, and without someone to hear you and see your cry of pain, dancing isn't beautiful, its grotesque. Everyone and everything from the outside is haunting to the mannequin. Haunting to the person trapped inside.

    Great thought provoking poem.

  • 9 years ago

    by Mackenzie

    This is an amazing piece of art. Very deep. Omg. Ur a flippin idiot if you don't think ur a good writer. If i was anywhere near u.. i'd be strangling you at the moment. jk. but still. your an amazing writer. i'm the bad writer. lol. 5/5 allllll the way.

    great job&&keep it up.

    much love,
    mac.<3
    [.just.another.silly.teenage.girl.]

  • 9 years ago

    by C P Sharma

    Awesome poem. "Our sweetest songs are those that tell of the saddest thought."

  • You have amazing talent...keep it up!

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