Does it make sense, is it supposed to?
Shall the heart sing to what its opposed to?
Boundless skies stuck in unperceived barriers,
Useless loads upon insightful carriers.
You judge what you know, but who knows who, do you know you,
All perceptions clouded, assumptions with no clue.
World can be a beautiful construct with eyes closed shut,
You could visit the skies or knock on Hagrid's hut.
Scenes and colours merge, imaginations run wild,
Sometimes its better not to be serious, just daydream and be a child.
Better keep the mind an empty canvas than fill it with worry,
I would rather take time to choose bright colours than assume in a hurry.
Is it us choosing the world in our dreams?
Making artificial memories or waking up in screams...
Endless euphoria and a useless utopia,
Dreadful demons and disturbing dystopia..
"He is always in his own world", maybe that world is better,
Urge for escapism fueled by words heard bitter.
Assumed eccentrics those who exist in a dreamscape,
Spending time bound by flesh waiting to escape.
Some designed to not fit in, upon you to take the boon,
Some paint the starry night, its upon you to talk to the moon.
Fools are those bound by logic walking a straight learnt road,
You can do anything with your eyes closed, make the skies your abode...
Humans dare think beyond, for they know they are capable for more,
poems, stories and painting all part of the same lore,
A million ways to go, the mortal stuck in the middle,
To the rational mind, it is all nothing but a riddle.
Someone sitting above, never failing to endlessly instruct,
Truth, names and time nothing but a human construct.
If Jack was happy with what was, he would have never climbed the beanstalk,
All we desire is more than reality, all we want is a Dreamwalk.....
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