Dormant Embryo

There’s a world within me, a culture of cherished dreams

Lurking gloomy shadows, unheard unanswered screams

It’s in constant combat, with creatures of my kind

With different worlds within them, each one a different mind.

If truth be told I’m clueless, to which dimension I belong

What language do I speak? Who understands my song?

Sometimes reason fails me, when my lips part to speak

Facing a feigned charisma, originality feels so weak

Why the foolish submission? To an absurd inferiority?

The divorce from all humankind, the run from reality?

There’s a world within me, it sleeps in anxious slumber

It churns with emotions, for events it remembers

It rotates on a play of words, the pieces I compose

My poetry makes the seasons, the weather is my prose

Flowing thoughts are rivers, its turmoil makes the seas

My wrath unleashes storms, and my joy makes its breeze

But it knows not the motive, a direction in which to spin

Dreams a million dreams, but resources fall short within

Till then the creative embryo, sleeps in dormancy

And I wait for recognition, I wait so patiently.