Dreamland by Maddie DiMarco

Where do you go when you're not quite dead?

Where do you go when you're tucked and swaddled in your bed?

What happens to you when your eyes fall closed,

When your face goes blank and you're in sleep's throes?

When your body falls still but your mind doesn't cease,

What illusions are you spinning to put yourself at ease?

Or maybe your head breeds blood instead of a sunrise,

Something wicked to haunt the shadows behind closed eyes?

They're supposed to make sense, but what do they mean?

How do you decipher the plots of your dreams?

They're half-written stories and incoherent notes,

A marked path to the mind but a sinking boat

I'd like to learn the reasons behind what my dreams compose

I want to understand what they're trying to say, what they know

They're not real, not really, though that's not how it seems,

Because the true mind springs to life in land of dreams