Poetry:

In dreams I wake

Tomorrow?... today?... which will I in live?
Look in the crowded streets of empty for my soul
But I know that no one can deliver wakeful alive.
Sleep! and soon my eyes shut can see, with what to which I wish to seem
   my heart in dream

My reality awake and fleeting
To feel the nothing of images real, and then the poignant epiphany of hope is fake!
I may Dream! To escape this world wind beating!
Realization is the invitation
   I know conscience screams that bloody flashes of self I must make

But... In dreams, I finally wake!

Thomas McDonley (C) 2003