Through The Door, Where Dreams Implore, Leaving Questions Asking More

      Through The Door, Where Dreams Implore, Leaving Questions Asking More

(Written by Jonathan Shaw)

The light was dim, though familiar this place,

I dreamt of it before, in a profound embrace.

Elegant it stood, like a rare painting on a wall,

Filled with chandelier balls, enchanting all.

The people's expressions, ghastly and surreal,

As if they beheld a ghostly appeal.

I felt like an outsider, not fitting in,

In this dim-lit dream, where silence chimed within.

Adequate and soft, a sweet humming buzz,

Flowing endlessly, gentle, like a stream does.

The corridor, broad, stood out with pride,

But the people's faces held no favors, beside.

They sensed my presence, a dreamer dreaming inside of a dream,

Yet, mistook me for some ghastly ghost, gleam.

But this land, both familiar and strange,

They couldn't fathom, my mind's interchange.

Once mine for the taking, they didn't comprehend,

I dreamt of this place, a journey without end.

Through a glossy white door, a corridor so clear,

Back Into my physical state, I reluctantly reappear.

Gathering mental notes, I jot them down,

In my memoirs, with a pen that knows no frown.

A new discovery, not entirely new it seems,

That dim light, haunting me like a hauntingly blue dream.

The eerie ring in my head, like raven birds at dawn,

Each night I sleep, hoping that light will spawn.

Until one lonely night, I found a rightly familiar door,

A door I've been waiting for, longing to explore.

But it said, "Not ready yet, fulfill what you must,

Only then, will this door open, your trust."

As it closed, a missing piece caught my eye,

A beacon of hope, an image that made me sigh.

Love, seen in another form, they may call a dream,

This new life showed me more than it may seem.

I longed for the old ballroom dance, etiquette so divine,

But now I drift alone, wander in this new realm, no longer mine.

Strangers make me feel less lost, oddly connected,

Yet, still an outcast, in this realm, not so protected.

Evildoers disguised as good, playing their part,

Inhabiting others' skins, envious of each art.

Now well-known but distant, in this land of the lost,

Where dreams within dreams hold little value, no matter the cost.

I strive to inspire with every word I say,

Clutching onto that dim light, my joy, I pray.

In the whispers of her voice, I find comfort and cheer,

"Don't fear, my love, even when I'm not near.

This time is for you to grow and sow as she says,

Master your mind, let your knowledge flow."

As her voice fades, carried away by the wind,

Love and transcendence, the path I must make Amends.

Half my heart now bleeds, yet your heart can be free,

Letting go of the pain that once guided me.

Through mountains and valleys, I continue to roam,

Known as the wounded healer, but I prefer the flame.

I shed a tear on this solitary peak,

Watching mankind below with an eager to win streak.

I'll wander, known by a name, a lone wanderer's quest,

But inside, I'll hold on to the love that was the best.

Boy, remember you're the shining light to shine,

With the power to turn wrong into right, so divine.

I send one last message she says, hoping it's received,

As her heart bleeds, and mine grieves.

On this lonely mountain top, a tear I shed,

continuing to wander, wounded healer, misunderstood. But healing is now my path I tread,

Into this land of the living and of the dead