I feel most alive in the morning when I first open my eyes
And all those images so vague within my dreams
Awake me with such metaphoric clarity
And all throughout the day, I was one with my thoughts
Before slipping away into the verses of those colors and their shapes
So rich and pure against the dullness of the world
I never feel alone not even at the very bottom of this sea
There is always something living, something breathing
Something filling up my eyes
And everything is hunger, especially what’s been dead
And some days I’d rather be dreaming
Dreaming of that peace
This peace no man can stomach or harbor while awake
But in his deepest slumbers, it may fill his head with visions
It may eat his heart away