the hunter lies prone
aiming at his prey
we run aimlessly
hoping that the answers
shall fall from the sky
and drench us
with fulfilled fantasy
we are delusional
blind to that which
lies at our feet
sways between the leaves
strokes the sky
that which we seek
is not in some illusion
above and below
it is as real as
the beating of our hearts
as real as the words we read
we are the unreal
i aspire to a vision
but the vision
is in the realness of my action
i speak the answer daily
and do not hear it
i have decided to awaken from my functional schizophrenia
and live a dream
rather than merely dream it
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