be, a dream

I wonder what it would be like to sit out and delete, cruel memories concepted, in the darkness of conceit, echoes manifesting, sick voices in my sleep, collected impressions, more than skin deep, familiar neglect and insistent disbelief, stolen innocence by a demon thief.

I wonder what it would be like to set up and see, faith correlate with fate into the truest degree, feeling respect full minus all the narcissistic deceit, bear witness to shadow spectres fading by the light of the sea, hearts not playing truant or laying souls bare to low self esteem.

I wonder what it would be like, to wake up in the morning without having lost any dreams, open my eyes to a reality in which I truly believe, enough motivation to even want to live, no longer aching or calling for my spirit to leave, with highs and hopes, instead of endless defeat.