Mortals Dream

Mortal’s dream or so we are told.
Their night flights to their desires are mold.
Here they are what they wish, and do what they will;
Knights in armour with dragons to kill.
Worlds beyond counting, dangers concealed.
And dark sweet secrets strangely revealed.

 

Emily Dickenson FTW

The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I’ve known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.