Poem: Fever dreams

As the blackness of ink soaks through the snow white pages

so does the breathing get harder and the heartbeat races

as you fight your ghosts in the shadow tunnels

making sense of your fever dreams

revelation always follows after the moment

you want to surrender and stare into the abyss

it takes years for us to develop strong spines

first we develop fragile cells and flesh, bones we create much later

we lose our shape living in the modern world

we've forgotten and destroyed most of ancient wisdom

there are many hard battles we fight

inside of ourselves and by ourselves

for we've never learned trust

and helping others is under-rated

we weren't born to this earth to walk it alone

sometimes it seems we talk endlessly, but fail to say a thing

we rather keep it locked up,

either we find the right path or we get lost,

hearts have the knowledge of healing,

but the mind remembers and lingers to details

since it is the fiercest critique

can you still distinguish real from fake?

can you still tell who is the writer of your life?

is time taking our dreams away?

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