We arrive in a rushing lucid dream,
falling stars and angel’s dust,
this trip has no particular theme,
Our indefinite and unconscious state,
is blown away to dream-like ecstasy,
seduce the colours and clean the slate,
Racing all the vibrant lights and shapes,
leaving behind only a current and a concept,
infinite is flying without capes,
A flicker of light radiates in the air,
psychedelic signal fire above our heads,
our alertness has naver been so bare,
But we awake from our coma to needles & pins,
numbness followed by clouded pictures & memories,
amnesia is the hangover for our sins.
dreams….
I had to read the poem more than once to try to understand it. It is nice about dreams but it may be to complex for me to understand!