From The Lab

"Curse The Images Of Dreams"

Curse the images of dreams,
Damn the vivid pseudo-show,
Flowing past the eyelids, streams
Locked ideas the brain has stowed.

Agony in little games,
Happiness in horrid gifts,
Madness lacking proper names,
Sends the soul through torrid fits.

Beast of burden fade away,
In the dying of the night,
Colors dull into the greys,
Vivid tones of black and white.

Let the contrast of life start,
Opposites that dance in tune,
Thus let sleep gap far apart,
Constant, as midnight to noon.