Poem: "The Monk" by M Teresa Clayton

The Monk
M Teresa Clayton

Ever wonder if this is real, or is that place inside of us real? How about, life, death, dreams, awakenings?

Hello again, to no one there,
Shadows of those who really care.
I can feel you inside of me,
Waiting to listen so patiently.
The vision haunts behind my eyes,
Slowly appears, then quickly dies,
Like forgotten lies.
Whispers spoken to no one there.

I am lucid in all my dreams,
Astral projection laser beams,
Looking for something I will not find,
It remains back there, inside my mind.
I know not why, and I know not when
The memories haunt me once again,
Tell me where you’ve been.
I looked for you inside those dreams.

Then at once, something appeared,
Nothing welcomed; nothing feared,
Someone speaking, a hollow sound,
Someone searching, nothing found.
The only truth I comprehend
Promises break, truths can bend,
Broken hearts never mend.
Something stirred then disappeared.

I screamed out, one single word,
“You won’t listen. Am I not heard?
I can save you from what you’ve become,
Return those feelings where you are numb."
The message was lost, already dead,
No one understands what I have said.
Too much paralyzing dread,
Of what may come afterward.

People followed people, just like sheep,
I saw it all inside my sleep.
I tried to change the path they’d taken
But was pulled away as I awakened,
Aware that no one will ever know,
They will not ask which way to go,
Or see the visions that would show
They are sinking in the deep.

“Will we live before we die?”
The question asked, no reply.
“Will people fall into despair,
Awakening to no one there?”
Nothing is simply nothing shared.
Believing no one ever cared,
No one dared...
Whisper the question, “why?”