The Bound Witness

A young mind is sweetening the wish of roaming
Behind the back of its controllable owner,
And that shall be me.
All these beings never stopped racing in my head,
In times of affliction and ruth, they seem almost as real as me.
I could do anything with these ghostly imaginations and strange feelings!
They are real somewhere else,
But I must contain the awareness of risk of letting my mind create reality affected by them.
And I do know that would be an utterly stupid thing to do,
Because we do have a given reality!
But I do not belong here, nor do you.
Your eyes can startle a magical silence,
While sharing the freed intelligence.
They can see the nakedness of endless speeches
And heaviness of one's breath, swaying the troubles away.
Smallest things create deep mooring,
And you enjoy its presence.
Noiselessly you wish to find the bound witness of your forms.