Lucid

There was a dream where I was happy,
In love; alive.
As I clung to you, the sense of the outside calling,
I slept.
A memory of something maybe forgotten,
a soft voice beside me,

Whispers, reminding me, “awake, see what is here”
The dream fades.
With fresh eyes open to see, it was always ever you,
and I was always this.

Stoic Poetry

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