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Silhouette of barren trees

Against a crimson sky

Induces unto me

Thoughts not often pondered.

Consciousness is not

Exactly as it seems,

Living amongst these

Memories from a dream.

In this moment,

I am nothing.

The trees are infinite;

The feeble moon glows.

Everything is in its rightful place;

There's no limit to nature's prose.

I am no longer a conscious being.

I am merely a spectator to this scene—

A still camera, to record an image,

To illustrate a single memory from a dream.

Fog of serenity,

Resting above

Murky waters,

Beckons me

Over into

Its ghostly mist.

But I am frozen,

Paralyzed by sleep.

Instead, I watch it

Creep towards me,

And I feel it

Overtake my being.

I am one with

The air around me;

Tree roots grow

Within my body.

Quickly

Vanishing

From that plane

Of existence.

Covered in

The shrouds that

Conceal dark

Mysteries.