Laying here my thoughts expound,
Attempting to ward off the night,
Chemicals have laced my mind,
And art continues to create itself.
I watch solely as a spectator
As colors bleed from the brush
Onto the blank walls of my head;
Subconscious outlines its ideas,
Murals painted into its soul
Drifting off the colors...fade
Persisting to joust with the night
The battle won once again and the
Conscious watches the show-
Imagination is released;
Running loose in the field,
Its tracks are picturesque-
Colors now fade away...
Subconscious lost the fight,
'Awake' is wounded again
...A battle won by the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.