So many false dawns

you feel the sun is a lie

And it is a lie

A false God…

A phantasmagoria

A photon stream

Like a T.V. stream

No reality remains there

nothing is there…

But what of me?

I seek but find no key

It’s a dream within a dream

within a sequence

without sequins

The sparkle has gone

What remains is tawdry,

And the real

Is the most unreal

after all.

copyright Dale Beck 2018.

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