This the edited version of a previous poem I wrote (see here). Thoughts on it would be very much appreciated. ^_^
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Wide Awake in a Dream
I.
To dream, and to know that You are dreaming,
opens a world where You are the alpha,
You are the omega, and unto none
must You answer.
II.
I was deceived, but now I comprehend
that the events of the past half-hour
rejected logic, and embraced chaos.
And as an actor, I played my part,
oblivious to the irrational plot,
and blind to the neon-lighted holes.
How was it that I could not see
that which is now so joyfully obvious?
The truth being: the horror was nothing but a dream.
III.
And now here I stand, a body within my own mind,
and all around: the dreamscape - a simulation, a world;
it is something solid, and yet not of substance;
it is something huge, but has no dimensions.
I am surrounded - by unreality.
But, upon the ground I see specks of dirt and gravel,
and upon that wall I see rough brick, eroded by time,
and upon my hand I see: cracks in the skin, the pores, the tiny hairs.
How could this be anything, but reality?
Yet, this is my hometown, and
instead of a hill, there lies a flat, endless road,
and where is the roundabout,
and what is that building there?
And, look at the sky! Golden syrup attacks
clouds of purple, a scene stolen
from the canvas of a surrealist.
But, despite the beauty, I can not share it;
the people I see walking are no more real
than characters in a videogame.
In this place, I am as the last human left alive.
-- Jonathan Hyams
