Awakening

Last night again, the shadows came,

A twisted maze, a phantom flame—

The same old fear, in different guise,

Behind closed lids, beneath dark skies.

It whispered lies with voices known,

In echoes deep, where seeds are sown.

I ran, I wept, I fought in vain,

Chained by a silent, unseen chain.

But in the stillness, just before

The dawn crept soft through dream’s wide door,

A voice—not loud, but deep and clear—

Spoke not to fright, but melt the fear:

"This pain, this loop, this nightly scream—

You’ve called it real within a dream.

But you are not the fleeing prey;

You are the light that shapes the way."

And then I saw—what terror hides,

Is but the self where ego bides.

The nightmare’s grip began to fall—

I only had to see it all.

To know the dream, to face the fright,

To wake within and see the night

As just a veil, a passing scene—

Not what I am, but what has been.

This life, too, dances on a thread

Of thoughts long spun, beliefs long fed.

But when I breathe, and gently see,

The dream dissolves, and I am free.

Now patterns break beneath my gaze,

Old cycles burn in conscious blaze.

I tune my soul, I shape my sound,

No longer lost—I’m newly found.

No longer swayed by outer storm,

I choose my path, my truest form.

The mind, once master, now a tool—

The soul ascends, serene and cool.

Awake, aware, I now begin—

To live from truth that burns within.

To ride the stars, to bend the stream,

To be the dreamer of the dream.