Dreams are glints in the sun;
In the eyes of the imaginary.
Pupils pulsating,
Growing and shrinking.
The only spasms happening;
That shake loose reality.
A sane man is content with his reasoning;
Sure in his character.
Behind the eyes, they still exist wholly;
There are tears there, scratching the glassy eyes.
Corroding the marble skin;
And leaving trails where humanity flows.
The unsure man, is deemed insane;
By seemingly his normal brain.
Finger rap upon his soul;
And disconnect it from the whole.
He retreats back, behind the pulsing pupils;
Down until he is no longer affecting them.
And they can appear normal;
Searching for reason in this insane world.
Sure in his mind,
That has made it so.
As much as the sane do not fear the dark;
Because it simply hides the unknown.
The man is thrown out;
And he becomes this unknown.