Even when sleeping the mind is awake;
unbeknownst to him, his thoughts have a meeting.
The doors close-they deliberate, proliferate and then create dreams that resemble little of where they started from.
The origins are there; the maker of this tapestry has left his signature but has given no map to find it.
The sleeping mind wanders the turbulent sea, yet it flies in the sky on a dragon, for the debate is raging on as imagination takes the reins of the horse that gallops forward.
There in the shadows, a fair maiden awaits,
exchanging pleasantries with her,
as the chemistries take place.
The euphoric emotions, leave him with notions that cause an illustrious yet unbidden smile to slowly disturb the sleeping 'facade' that graces his face, every night.
In this moment he is awake in another world; a secret his mind conceals from him.
As he blinks, the fair maiden is pierced by an arrow and silently she drops to the ground- sorrow etched on her face, like a scar that cannot be healed.
She dissipates into mist, drifting off to realms unknown.
Fear courses through his veins and he realizes that on Earth, he is truly sleeping.
The mind can no longer hide this secret, for he is now weeping.
Desperately he struggles to awaken before he must face death's dance,
as the twang of a bowstring echoes in the near distance.
In that moment before death, he awakens on Earth, his mind still alert, yet asleep in his dreams.
His eyes are moist, his mouth parched.
"Lolo?" he says trembling.
10 years it has been.
10 years it has been.
The fair maiden- someone he had once seen.
He has found the signature of the weaver of this tapestry,
it is signed in his writing but not in his name.
...A first, middle & last name ...
Lolo is dead.
He has found the signature of the weaver of this tapestry,
it is signed in his writing but not in his name.
...A first, middle & last name ...
Lolo is dead.
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