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The Dream
A queer dream it was that punctured my sleep
Thought forms everywhere, all that my eyes can take
Then, I dreamt that I rose up, wide awake
'Are you real? ' I asked the forms that creep
'Yes, we are, ' they said. 'You're the one that's fake.'
'How is that so? ' I asked in disbelief
But I recalled my readings a year back
About the soul, and my mind went back on track
I'm spirit, with the body its relief
That's some light I saw, now as dawn would crack
'Here, everything is real, ' the form added,
'Your world is but illusion of its soul.'
Strange that I've held what is there, to be all
Perception now seems, somewhat beclouded
How else will truth in seeking minds install?
'Even you is in disguise, ' said the form,
'Just taking on the shape you've been meant to be.'
What revelation! That, I sure, could say
If to this wise, my logic would conform
It must follow that I'm disguised as me
I woke up thinking what should 'me' now mean
If it's not the 'self, ' then I'll rack my brain
Someone said, 'Know Thyself, ' and not in vain
For I'll search, so to have it answered clean
Come the time that I dream of it again.
poem
by
Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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