The Dreamer
2012-01-28 1:57AM / 標準BLOG
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The Dreamer
O, what a lowly piece of rotting shit am I.
Is it not offensive, my heavenly muses of darkness,
That in all the earths of all possible worlds,
That I should defile this planet with my polluting shadow.
I see those with less fair looks,
Radiating with inner beauty.
But so vain am I, trapped by mine own visage.
Masking putrid depths of self-loathing.
I see those untouched by prividlege,
Rising from slums to societies summits,
Yet self-cursed am I by any advantage:
Corrupted blue-blood and over priced education.
I see the beauty in others: Their
curious minds:
Devouring books that litter my storage floor.
Dog-eared poetry their hands lovingly touch,
Words I commited to memory as grudging chore.
What do they see upon this earth that is plentiful?
Who are they to find possibility within?
How dare they make reality their dreams?
When I am the dreamer lost in despair.
What would they do with these visions of mine?
With the passion that burns the eye in my mind?
Would they rip out their heart and blot out their eyes?
Would they strangle their life and choke it with lies?
No.
They would make heaven on earth and unite the race.
Bring peace, prosperity, beauty and grace.
The angels would weep for their job would be done.
Even demons from hell – to earth , peacefully, t’would come.
So why cannot I? When
endorsed by heaven and hell.
Make real these visions and wake from this spell?
Because I am the dreamer – limitlessly blest.
But can I wake from my slumber? - my ultimate test.
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