When Dreams Die

Empty insides, briefly

Releasing expectations of me

Forgetting what could be

Granting myself the freedom

To conceive, endlessly

My own beliefs and prophecies

Observe the world around me

How I perceive has been a faithful friend to me

And I will not let it sink quietly

As crowds rave and deny entropy

I sneak silently in my solemn abode

Losing desires and dreams cast unto me

I’m no longer seeking outer destinies

To be approved and applauded so foreign to me

Not a need I have left to please

Adoring the outside of identities

To be as I ever was, my usual mode

Returned to the trees and every species

The fascinating marines and planted seeds

To the stars and galaxies

Everlasting I will be, hovering presently

Saved by my allowance of biotic tendencies

No longer adopting novel diseases

Everchanging and repeating

Civil attires and unrest ideologies

Nothing to prove, all to gain

Omniscient being, fame won't retain

Incoming totality, the freedom of preservation

The claim to power, the me I always wanted

Blend in expanse of culture and geographies

Content with sharing laughs and glees

Hardships and pleas all nations bleed

Of any peoples and nativities

My condemnation of macerated philosophies

To relish in my own company 

To exist in holy matrimony

Life cycle, a dream complete, internally

Boring, breathing, fantasy

Death is not inherently tragic

Elastic, eternal flexibility

Firmly latched, seekers keep

Reclaiming my born-rights to majesty

Dear to me, my propensity to see

Wounded by mortality, an idol would be

I am free, to simply be

This is my gift to me