An Imperfect Dream

An Imperfect Dream
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Is there such a thing as an imperfect dream?
I believe there is,
It's that state of being, when caught on the seam,
Not truly awake, but not asleep either,
And just as waking is life,
So too is sleep death,

Who are we that walk along that parapet?
Trapped in this state of insignificance,
That wander eternity with our heads in the clouds,
But our feet placed firmly on the ground,
Entrenched in reality but gazing at a place far beyond,
Between the wires and the barbs, to the place we cannot touch,

Our no-man's land,
Where none may stand,

For life is a battlefield,
And some are caught in a war,
But no matter how much fire rains from the sky,
We somehow stay breathing,
And continue to wander the minefield of our aspiration,
Much like Icarus, we must not aim too high,
Lest our soft wings fade and we plummet far below,
The higher we soar, the greater the pain when we fall,

And fall from on high we will,
For we are gluttons that feed till we fill,

Yet we never do, for dreams offer no sustenance,
Merely an objective, a path, a way forward,
And yet without our dreams we are lost,
In pursuit of them we can blind ourselves to all us,
As many like I have done,
And when the path is lost to you,
Then all direction is gone,
And the light of our hopes dies out,

The fire can of course be kindled,
No matter how long it has dwindled,

Nor how long it has remained unfed,
Starved of the very dreams that feed it,
For while we may devour them,
They offer us nothing,
But when given to our hopes,
They can light our way in the darkness,
And guide us home,

Home is where the heart is,
Mine I seem to miss,

Oh ye who wanders lands beyond,
Can you truly ever smile upon this earth?
Or shall you gaze at the mundane,
And feel part of you slip away,
Youth keeps the fires lit,
And the light blinds us,
So we feed it more dreams,
Thinking that when it has had enough,
It will show us our road through the darkness,

Oh how wrong we were to think such,
Throughout life, we seem to learn that much,

For without our path,
We cannot find home,
For it is not where you are born,
But where you seek,
What you pursue,
We search for home,
Where our hearts will be,
As we are born separate from them,
To keep them safe from our avarice,
For if we devour dreams though they offer us no comfort,
What would we do with the hearts of others,
When given the chance?

Here I am,
Wandering,
But not,
I have lost my light,
And my road as well,
Without direction,
I stumble blindly in the dark,
And fall,
And I wait,
I wait for the day that my dreams come back,
When the world changes.
When something shifts,
And I no longer walk the seams,
Between the living and the dead,
And I will find my home,
Far away from this,

I don't care where,
But wherever it may be,
All I ask is you take me there,
So I can be set free.