5.6.12 Surrealism

It’s a world of false impressions. Nothing here is real.

                I reach out to touch you.  But you vanish in a flash.

Every doorway turns to walls; every dream is just a nightmare.

                I dreamed of you last night.

The sun is shining but the world is dark.  The sky is red and black.

                You cut the rose and killed it…

The circles have sharp edges.  The roots of trees hang the bodies of the martyrs.

                …it’s blood has stained my heart.

Illusions, yes.  Illusions?  Don’t let them take my soul. 

Are you real?

 Please.  Don’t leave me here alone.