Stars aligned one night
and at the bottom of a well
pure water stemmed
into a life deemed
rather swell...
Enter: the dreamers.
Impossible in their disjointed logic.
Worlds melt away
as surroundings sway into chocolate swirls:
something tasty and vague -
unimposing to say
the very least...
And the radical cynics.
Hitting hard
with reality shards
painted black -
unfairly piercing
our spirits...
A juxtaposed mix,
serving only
to point out
where the others' wood
is hollow...
And they all reach down
into the well
for a crack
at each other's drink
until water levels
greedily recede
and sink out of grasp -
chaste and untouched
and what a shame
that only when we reach
barrell bottom
do we realize this much...
But someone's working a scheme
to rain the water back.
Enter: the cynical dreamer
riding situational trains
to the clouds -
half embracing God
when HE's not being
half ignored.