Lucid Prophecy

Lucid Prophecy

The goodbye
echoes behind my eyes,
like a second heartbeat
that I realize
I need
just before it
fades too quickly.

Startled by my
own voice whispering,
half sleeping,
come back to me...
come back to me...

Waking then, in
darkened illusion,
caffeinated confusion.
A room non-existent
with senses so vivid.

Retracing steps
that never took
place in the first place,
to go up stairs
to somewhere
that should lead nowhere,
to find I am outside
of a familiar house
in an unknown time.

And there's so much snow,
falling
in
slow
motion
that the notion
of anything real
is swallowed up
and then I feel
I am
waking again.

Green tinted fusion,
fever-filled conclusion,
that my memories
could really be
complex symbols
meant to unfold
as abstract prophecy,
being preached to me
by a man I know,
but have never seen
until this meeting.

In a hall dim lit,
as his fingers grip
a concave socket
where his eye
used to be,
before it came
to examine me,
collapsing
in
slow
motion
so that the notion
of anything real
is swallowed up
and then I feel
I am
waking again.

M. Toth 2008