Mother prison, seven billion strong.
Beyond your waters, space for walls.
An army of sleepers, calling you a stage.
Most of them dreaming, some wide awake.
Taking avatars for a ride
in a quantum slumber that some call life.
Just like a mother, with you it’s the same:
taking none of the credit and all of the blame.
The lucid dreamers know to design
masterpieces with you aligned.
Those with amnesia forget it’s a ride,
puzzled by rules
and interests that collide.
Mother prison, I dream awake.
Let me paint a masterpiece
no one will admire.
For everyone is busy weaving their own dreams,
in symphonies of seem.
And when I am done dreaming
this last dream of mine,
please let me be home
at Is-Be, my land.
By tuttysan © 2013
Inspired by the book “Alien Interview” by Lawrence Spencer.