Deathdreamer's Poem by Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr

Amorphously trancic eyes of an old man, dying,
effete lids close to a dripping state of morphine.
Dreams of love, war, the twenty-seven Yankees'
Intangibles never traded for souls or extra innings.

Immortality, a Dream for they who fear no Death,
and its movements that eye the rapid sleep.
But No! Not for the true Dreamer's, for only they-
see Death's nascence as a mere passing cloud.

To Dream is to experience a life without consequence,
where quandaries are solved or lost upon waking.
There are no sandlines drawn, that morning can't erase
'Tis why the True Dreamer cannot die within their dream.

Yet should they die in Dream, they will wake, come morning;
And should they die in Sleep, they will realize Peace.