“What Dreams May Come” by Walter W. Quinn III

I lie in bed at night with visions

Slowly appearing on my eyes like incisions

Of reality, as other worlds begin to leak

Inside, interweave, and start to speak

In language no one else can hear

But me, but still I begin to fear

What dreams may come.

Though my day has passed and tired

My body rests, but my mind is wired,

It imagines, supposes, commences construction

Of this place where time has no function,

People fly and die and turn into things,

And all the while the sirens sings

What dreams may come.

I have watched others go to this place,

Friends and enemies alike, I’ve watched their face

As our time passed, and it begins to overtake

Their bodies, and then their minds, and like a snake

Winds ‘round their soul, essence, it is all roped

And I watch as they waited, for they hoped

What dreams may come.

Time spins and flies, but I know the clock will stop

As I find my way up to the top,

Or maybe the same, I’ll go away and under,

And let feelings burn and my voice thunder.

As my eyes darken, my thoughts are thrilling,

A sudden revelation, and I find myself willing