Felt A Funeral In My Brain

As though Emily Dickinson was living through me in a dream sequence tender moment.

in a scream I was tossed in a frenzy of emotional imperfections

the silence richly embraced a feeling of a funeral in my brain

tried to take the thought captive but it never worked until

the knocking of the door to hear the strange noise of that of my mother

a soft still voice ensued until I was left to nothing more but a moment of silence

captivated by a push of mysterious decorum I set out to find the answer inside

still in my dream I wandered inside a cave with a warm crystal clear fire of a flame

stretched for my imaginative thought toward a figure inside the flame

as if a warlock was enticed to produce his magical powers amidst the flame

all of this was driving me insane as if two tombstones in my head

today its the walking dead people can't help you cause they can't even help themselves

the immense mockery of a white tailed dove flew outside the cave flying high in the sky

the twilight sun has blocked my inner vision I was left perplexed inside

a bitter chill of the after glow unleashed a deafening promise to explore so much more

the dream continued then onto another knock this time it was none other but a black cat

the innate furtherance of pillows being tossed throughout my room as if enclosed in some tomb

Ivy briars laced with the handle of Lavender bars would peak onto the climatic memory of the dream...

thoughts of Dickinson with her funeral moment with the hopes that it would dismiss this interval

conclaves of broken pieces emmersed in the cadence of an illusion

my soul permeates a reason for being but in heaven's name what ?