Intellect and artifact combine,
a divine derelict; memories
mysteries, comedies, tragedies,
cramped with crowded sensibility.
of deluded well intentioned plans
clandestine imps pouncing with odd grins.
Yet, wakening arrives, and I rise.
Their eyes remain in utopia.
Each labored word and breath ignorant
of the dystopia within them.
Hands groping at brilliant rainbow trails
deceived eyes perceive as elegance;
visions further veering them to hell.
©Denise-Marie Fisher 6.2011