The Painted Memories That I Dream


I had another dream last night 
But this dream was different 
I was floating in a jade like palace 
That had no fear of eternity 

Yet there was a voice that echoed
Throughout the halls of this paradox of a universe

That which was one with all conscious
That streamed in the everlasting life blood
As an overflowing aether 
Encrusted with the souls of man 

I was not afraid 
Rather, I was completely entranced
With this sight 

Then that voice that echoed spoke 
And asked if I was happy
I did not respond to the rhetorical question 
For I knew it knew how and what I felt
At that time I understood something that had no words
This heaven then pushed me out
And I awoke once again.

Weary is this soul…
For though I have a young shell
I have existed for eons 
Even though I can not remember 
It’s just something that I know

For nightly I walk in a gallery of dreams 
That has been painted with my memories.

~ Tony Paradise’s Poet ~
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