It’s there in the mind,
Sometimes embedded in the heart,
At points it’s hard to find,
Some linger but most of them depart.
It’s hard to articulate Something born in the dark,
Like this thing,
To speak about a dream,
Like a mystical flowing stream.
To embody immaterial objects,
And make abstract Projected concepts,
And bring them to life,
Requires a relentless pursuit of abandoning self,
Embodying something more than just talking about a dream.
Scoffers will come by with their well structured scorn,
Skeptics will hurl their unwarranted verbal abuse,
All because your relentless pursuit,
In talking about this dream,
It’s a crazy place to be,
And sometimes you’ll have times where you just have scream,
But if something is real,
And flows it in your veins,
Like the heart pumping blood that makes you feel alive,
Is worth the pursuit because it will not be in vain.