The Conjured Dreams

Many a moon ago, existed an Empire of Gloom

where silence in darkness, wrote stories of Doom,

And then a poet dared with a pen in his hand

to conjure radiance in that spectral land. 

 

In the darkness, quietude slowly did fade,

Whence comes the muse, from what shade?

In the stillness whispered an ancient folklore,

An afflatus arose from the Realms of the yore.

 

"O thought, tell  whence does dream emerge,

In the void where darkness does gently converge?"

Whispered a voice in a spectral wraith,

"Dreams fructify where reality doth bathe."

 

In the raven sky where stars cry and weep,

The pained bard asks the reticent that sleep,

" O Angels and Demons, tell me O unseen,

What tales do you write in this midnight sheen?"

 

Roared the Devil from his abyss,

"Each story written, is a revenant's kiss,

knitted in the derelict loom of the astral weft,

Inside the poet's heart, where dreams are dwelt."

In the prying parts of his memory's keep,

The poet pondered, where did the shadows creep,

"O shadows, tell me about the forgotten lore,

of the spectres that haunt this corridor"

 

Whispered a voice, mellowly spectral and softly sad,

"Here dwells several unrequited love that time has had,

As the ghosts of joy and shadows of pain,

Inside the poet's mind, they shall forever remain."

 

And then the moon casted its radiant glow,

Watching whom the poet asks the spirits below,

"O shades, tell me shining in the radiant light,

What visions sway in this lunar night?"

 

Sighed a murmur from the graveyard stones,

"Visions dance where the soul intones,

and beneath the moon's luminosity,

A poet's vision is but a dream of reality."

 

Having heard them, the poet began to weave

a mosaic of dreams where gloom did cleave

 "O shades, tell me about the nocturnal sky

wherefore do dreams in a poet's heart ne'er die?"

 

Whispered a voice like the Raven plumes,

"Dreams endure beyond their tombs

In the poet's heart, they rejoice in their rebirth

And rapture in the Immortal silence of Earth"

 

And then arose the Orb of the morrow,

defeating darkness and the poet's sorrow

yet leaving questions in the poet's mind

whose answers are one-of-its-kind.