Illusions Poem by Scarlett Charlotte

A pale light, like some tomorrow, not defined or whole
Twitched between my waking eyelids, an itch, for day is cold.
I'd many leagues besmirched that night, and yet my feet were clean,
My mind was fresh, not choked with living, I'd forgotten who I'd been.
A dream still flowed, a fragrant vapour, Sleep's sweeter draught than blood,
That often times will flow right through us, or snare us like swollen mud.
I'd stood amongst a burning forest, watching humans fall
As quickly as they climbed the pillars of blackened trees so tall.
And I, though basking in the glory, the thousand Summer heat,
I watched the race of my ancestors crumble at my feet.

I'd stood atop the highest mountain, watching men leap to the sky,
But they all fell, their bodies shattered, for not one man can fly.
As I stood, or floated, really, - the sun on ancient ice was glaring
Shadows only, rested slightly, where those frozen eyes were staring.
Resilient mountains stand forever, forever is no time at all,
Forests grow and die and wither, races age and races fall.

So it was that morning found me, bloated, drunk on nights sweet dew,
And so my veins were slowly emptied of this truly golden brew,
I stirred still burdened with Sleep's mantle, though cold, so frozen, with no fear,
For sadly, future, past and present, can not be softened with a tear.
My thoughts brought comfort - Dreams are illusions - the future is not plain
But lo, there's ash, warm on my fingers, and I lay still again.