On Dreaming

A little more these days it seems,
amidst the quirk and haze in dreams,
the elaborate fancy unleashed in sleep,
brings me round a truth to keep.

Treasures which I have now to hold,
bring cascades more of questions bold.
For each time new I reach the summit,
its down to the abyss again I plummit. 

Could I divorce myself from all this blunder?
And leave behind, the human, under.
To see at last, the clap of thunder!