Lost
I dream I am a piece of text.
Voyaging a composition, a little perplexed.
I trudge through cautiously - bitter coffee arrives.
It’s wrong.
I call for succour. It doesn’t come.
I wait in a dark room, alone. By myself.
A luminous screen illuminates: the darkness beyond.
Moments later, hang-gliding over clouds of commas,
I’m whizzing, hurling, and flying over fields of natural life.
The air is comforting, peaceful, tranquil.
I float with grace and prestige, rife.
As I float and see,
The prize, a semi colon.
A warm blast of air puffs me along out of sight.
Caught in a current of balmy sky.
I’m sent soaring,
Propelling me, higher. I fly
Gently towards the soft pallid ground.
I settle down, unsure. What just happened?
Buzzing with apprehension and delight.
I almost wallow for a second when it’s over.
Dark, dank bitterness encompasses tight.
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