I am standing at the edge of dreams.
Though they are silent, it seems.
This, in despite of my pleading.
I implore; they are unheeding.
What's more, they are
aggressive.
Oppressive, they are,
for their lips are sealed.
Leaving me nothing to wield
against the infinite space of
seeking.
No voices; no noise.
And no guidance.
So I will wait with poise.
Soon one will speak
and recognize that
I am standing at the edge of dreams.
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