Saturnian Dreams

“And their sun does never shine.

And their fields are bleak and bare.

And their ways are fill’d with thorns.

It’s eternal winter there.”

William Blake

Under the Blue Moon I made a wish, a desire deeply engraved inside my being, a voiceless phrase between thousands of unspoken thoughts. A wasteland of dreams and fears that emerged from the ruins of my past. So tired… so tired of wasting the remaining seconds of my mortal life to indecision and routine.

The nights brought back the nightmares, but I welcome them gladly because it’s better than plunging into nothingness, although in nothingness I awake.

My nightmares begin in black, but end up in color, still photographs of velvet purple and crimson red outlining the most terrifying monster that is out there – in dream and also in reality- to get me: Time. I can feel It running after me, hunting me, almost ripping apart my shoulder with Its claws. Can nobody see how ruthless and cruel Time is? Can nobody hear It shrieking like a banshee? Can nobody envision Its large black-hole-like mouth sucking at our souls, our lives, our existence as a whole?

Nobody can outrun Time.

Not even gods.

Not even death.

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