Those who dream in their minds’ dusty recesses nocturnally

Shall wake to find that it was a mirage or vanity

But the idealists of the daylight pose more seriously

For their vision with eyes open may act out worthily
 

Spoil not you have by desiring what you have not currently

Yet remember almost all that you now possess, ironically

Was once among the things you only dreamed about relentlessly

Illustrated by pneuma, dreams form a novel to be felt entirely

When you are between awake and asleep; reality and fantasy
 

Since our truest life is when we fancy consciously in ordinary

More things are on earth than can ever be dreamt of in philosophy

And if you make wishes as you will live forever in a large quantity

There is a delicately better chance of one coming true relatively
 

Dream On.

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