Dreams entangle and untangle,
Melding a mess of what is, what was,
And whatever will be.

Makes sure and unsure
Between what’s near and what’s far—
A state of certainty and uncertainty.

Hours will pass, years and centuries,
And repeat for eons, repeat for eternity.

Shed your worries and fret not,
Because you shall dive
Into a world without history.

Search not there for holy nor for divine—
You are the god,
All-mighty entity.

Create and destroy all that you want,
Merge with matter and with energy.

In this place, nothing’s strange nor is bizarre—
It’s all just a dream,
And you are dreaming peacefully.

Sleep, sweet Leviathan inside my heart,
Until the day and sun drift apart,
Until cold abandons winter,
Until fire abandons cinder.

Wake not when you hear their screams—
Though it gleams, though it gleams.

Wake not to sound nor to light,
Nor to my long, everlasting fight.
Shield your eyes and cover your ears,
Stay in the deep, stay in the deep.

And on the day that all will be fulfilled,
And you decide to spread your wings,
My heart may flutter, my soul may sink
From the thought of the horror you may bring.

Still, for now don’t wonder or try to ask—
Sleep on this lavender heart and bask,
With dreams you shall only dream alone,
With dreams that only to you are known.

For I’ll keep you still for howevermore,
Until every grain of sand leaves its shore,
Until they burn every piece of coal,
And every man sets free his soul,
And every paper soaked in poetry
Has been forgotten and lost.

For now, sweet Leviathan,
Sleep inside this heart—
Lest all the world fall apart.

I walked this town with madness,
Where streets once full of gladness—
And I cried into the heavenly sky
That no sadness shall ever blow by
Upon this town of madness.

For all the churches and their bells
May ring warning about this hell,
But no bell can reach the drinking well
That drove this town to madness.

I turned around seeking that sound
That haunted every morrow—
That ripply wave that intertwines
And beckons us to sorrow.

I stood amidst this desolate town
That wore the well as its crown,
And every building knelt broken down
To hail the King of Madness.

O one that holds the strands of fate
Weave this worthless soul a tale
From your fragile winding strings
stronger than armies of noble kings

Don’t let this wandering wretch be lost
Through your halls of ancient tales
With the ways of your silky words
Let my deeds be louder than storms and gales

Let my name be heard when the songbird sings
By your cold and placid grace
To your strands I hold and cling
Until you lift me from my lowly place
And be with you ever…. coiling.