The Eternal Loop of Being

Dreams could be another world,

A realm where we live beyond this flesh,

A place we visit when our eyes close,

Where the mind drifts and the body rests,

A continuous existence, echoing life’s thread,

Outside the limits of what we see.

Those who dream are not merely asleep,

But alive in another time, another place,

Walking roads unseen,

Touching moments beyond the reach of day.

And those who do not dream?

Have already been lost,

Silenced in the second world,

Their lives extinguished where we roam.

Or perhaps they have yet to be born,

Awaiting their time to rise in the shadows of sleep,

To step into the world where we all eventually meet.

For in dreams, we live again,

Free from the chains of the waking world,

A place where time bends and space dissolves,

Where death is just a passing shadow,

And life is reborn with every night’s embrace.

Dreams, just another world,

A secret life we all carry,

An endless loop of being,

Where those who dream continue,

And those who don’t are yet to arrive.