Sol in a Vanilla Sky

Slowly deprived of sight,
(Sol in a vanilla sky);
death coupled with fatigue,
and I fell to the sleep of the endless dream:

In an enduring expanse of constellations
flames licked my Achilles' heel
and I saw into futures unknown;
futures never meant to be,
for their breaking of the rules of reality.

So cold and creamy was the atmosphere...
the taste sublime;
the light, crisp and white;
tranquility in truth of all the dream's animation.

How I longed to stay in these worlds,
but their peace is unstable;
so quickly to nightmares they turn
at the slightest tip of the balance;
a world with no limits is corrupted too easily.

We all breathe air,
We all die eventually,
Though perhaps blind to the light of the sun,
one still feels its burn.



[20:58|28.12.011] ©c.thomas.carter