The Mist Of Sleep

Daniel Kemp

Through the mist of sleep, my eyes were forced to gaze

Upon such an image of beauty that my heart did so shamelessly crave

I realised I was just a touch away from paradise in its iniquitous extreme

But it was as I reached out to her that I was shaken, and woken from my dream.

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With lonely frozen tears into sleep once more I did descend

Searching for the dream that I could not find, or could I comprehend

Chilled I lay, impossible to move, as entrapped without hope I was enclosed

I begged for life. I cried for warmth, but there was no pity in the voices that arose.

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When my conscience stopped regretting the past a path was shown ahead

But a voice cried out with caution—‘The path is not straight. Be careful how you tread’

Deep inside the shadows great arched ceilings could I see

And…

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