Image: Writers Circle – Untitled

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I sleep in the wake of my minds eye.

Beholding a wondrous dreamscape of kaleidoscope pictures

spinning round like a carousel.

The deepest shades of blue pollute my head

swimming in the pollution, fish.

Fish of glorious red gold, gleaming like royalty.

Shimmering as though spells of enchantment had been cast.

I ask myself questions of such beauty,

might it kill me to stare into its glory for to long?

Could I get lost in this place? Never to wake.

I ask myself, would it be ok to never wake. To never leave.

I have traveled to the Otherworld of all things magical.

To stay would be divine.

Ross W

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