Beyond the bend of mortal sense,
A world awaits with baited breath.
Discovered in shards of brilliance,
Broken by reality’s hindrance.
To flow beyond the realm of real,
Toward colors to hear and scents to feel.
To breathe in the shock of what is to come,
Built by others, discovered by some.
To find what sleeps in swathes of thought,
Where dreams become solid at once they are sought.
A realm of disputed physics and laws,
Where complexity’s fodder and simple is awe.
And of this realm of torturous perfection,
Unlimited creation, unhindered invention,
A wicked guard sits at the throne of it all,
Reality, ensuring that some dreams fall.
Beyond his gaping chasm-like eyes,
Defiance sits cross-legged at his demise.
Declaring the freedom of an illness-rid world,
To be found in the light of our own shadowy realm.
To be found in the death of Death’s slayer, you know.