Delirium

To hear these thoughts
in my own true voice, I dreamt. 
And in this dream I was flying. 

I don't know when my eyes closed,
but I awakened to this dream
that I was flying. 
Without any knowledge 
of with whom I conversed,
I repeated to myself that in the darkness
there was never anything or anyone.

That end which is inevitable,
I watched it from afar,
from within this dream,
until death came to me. 
Where else shall I go to?
What good may it do
to go seeking yet another world?
With nothing to lose or care for,
I flew in this dream I had. 

Illusions erected like pillars in clockwork,
seasons painted my entire universe with incomprehensible beauty,
still the raven sang of a black void hidden beyond this mirage. 

Decaying reflections of life like memories withered,
yet I recollected them, burning in the strife it caused me, 
I appropriated them to my apocalyptic visions.

I had a dream that I flew past this underworld
and gasped for the air of another world.
But a frozen realm surfaced before me,
and all my life I'd yearned for it to be mine alone,
but to see it this perfectly dead and still,
I don't know if this dream was ever my own.