Ambient swirls

I dream in reds and gold’s,
Of summers final dying,
Their ambient swirls draw me in,
With all the spectral colours,
Warming yellows and orange,
They pull on me, towards the screen,
Lost in tints of sunsets to be seen,
Music whispered from the gods,
Smoke one more for the road of my mind,
Tumbling in its impressions and effects,
And there,
Her face as it flits from page to page,
And as this night dances on,
Filling these waking dreams with hope.
The ones we are forced to see, unwillingness in flinching,
To shy away from past, present and future horrors,
On to me from me,
And in spite for me,
Or of me,
And in this surreal semi conscious dreaming,
Numbness smothers me unfeeling in its caress,
And carries me away to brighter lands,
Through and beyond the confines and constraints of my mortal mind, To universes beyond ours,
And lands we will never find again,
Or remember come morning.

This one came to me in the grip of my favourite narcotics of the time, Alcohol and cannabis. I had my music playing through my computer, and it offered visualisations while listening. One was called ambient swirls, and it kick started this poem,


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