Waking Nightmare

Waking nightmare, sleeping wonderland . . .

Here do I saunter the withering orchid fields untended

basking beneath the nonchalant sun within the wonderland of slumber

focusing not on the hollows of my crossed heart unamended

nor do I mourn a prior life over-encumbered

Cursed be the morning sun

rapping on my heaven's door!

Alas I await for the waking nightmare to be done

with its rotting rust creeping to slumber's core

No longer could I rest amid the weary of the night

for life has rooted itself into the depths of my soul

never again did I reach nirvana's height

while insomnia took me out for a stroll

Author's Note

I am tempted to tweak the last half; though I fear if I do so, I will end up messing up my whole concept. Thoughts?
Photo courtesy of Marabelle on Deviant Art.

Reviews

[Extant]

The last two paragraphs speak more to me than the first, I hear you standing up and stating this.

[Baby Ricochet]

I go through periods of insomnia so I relate to the ending. Not my faveorite Tai poem but not bad either