Poetry By, J. M. Lilin
To lay still, as a poetic soul caught up in an ocean of reflection and contemplation.
To hold still and listen to the story twirling in a melody spin at the edge of the cliff.
There is a forest, yes, a forest fire building and caressing the edges of my mind
Those imaginary friends come forth from the shadows with smiles meant for me.
A dream, sent by the man of the sand, forming and dissolving into a stimulation of exhilaration.
Something brilliantly delightful from breathtaking causes in spectaculars of wonder.
A dream-land that is only mine, and mine to keep as a stake in the box of what to never forget.
The sun here is not like the sun back home and the stars are close enough for our hope to touch.
My veins are filled with electricity; a creative thrill that brings nimble fairy lights over the moon.
The ocean is mine to walk upon, waves forming into a path that leads me into the abysmal deep anonymous.
Mysterious creatures and mysterious people all tell me there is no right way but instead, there are many ways.
So, I keep walking, through cities that float in the clouds; the cities without the obscurity of lurking silhouettes.
Too much to see and not enough time, for any moment, I shall wake to the morning sun.
So, as the moment is mine, I claim it and make it my own, shaping it into a world that is mine to behold.
For now, this world is in motion and my body is sleeping still.
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