Sleeper's Eyes

I find that poetry is an art form that can effectively create the illusion that my feelings are by any means- interesting. While my poetry ranges from freeverse to rhyme, my more recent work portrays a message of some sort. The themes vary from poem to poem but I have chose this poem in particular to briefly discuss. "The Sleeper's Eyes", discusses how people see what they want to see in order to make life bearable. They see grandiose illusions that appeal to the weaker part of their mind that wills these illusions to become true. Even a deer must see past the yellow grass illusions of the deserts to realize that a tiger lurks behind the stalks, waiting to pounce.

Even when a awake, many are still asleep,
reality is their slumber, they're still dreaming deep.
They cannot see, but they stare with their eyes,
at the masks we wear, at the tongue that tells lies.
Yet it passes by them, the ghost that cannot be seen,
high on our pedestal, haunted by our dreams.
The nuances of our life, tangled in a knot,
sleeping in oblivion, in this illusion of a cot.
'We stand above all', is the thought in our head,
but you're lying down, because you're still in bed.
Are we all equal? That remains to be seen,
see we're all average and that's what I mean.

Yet even the average person, has love in their heart,
still sleeping, when they say 'till death do us apart'.
The average person, does not love any more,
and it is this dream, that makes people so poor.
For when truly awake, the lover hears,
the sobs, the cries and the drowning tears.
'When the rain from your eyes, ceases to exist,
my being deceased will cease to persist.'

See the words of a person, who is truly awake,
will always reflect what is truly at stake.
But the eyes are open, they've closed their mind,
covering the windows- yes they're blind.
Vision is chosen, it is free will,
witnessing murder, but 'no blood was spilled'.
Call it a dream or a pleasant nightmare,
the clock ticks the time, warning to be aware.

If we ever do awaken, we will write a fable,
of how we all dined at the very same table.
If we ever do awaken, we shall see a fight,
a sight that can only be seen with sight.