Pit,Pat,Pit,Pat,Pit,Pat,Pit,Pat

Pit, Pat, Pit, Pat, Pit, Pat, Pit, Pat
Pit,pat,pit,pat,pit, pat,pit,pat,
The constant noise of a drip of water.
My eyes are closely shut, yet I can see them,
As those tiny droplets pierce my drums with music.

I am alone on a moonless night somewhere in time,
And the weight of many are on my shoulders.
A part of the universe is bleeding in shame,
As it struggles to regain it’s self respect.

Pit,pat,pit,pat,pit,pat,pit,pat,
I sense a presence surrounding me in a glow.
Perhaps there is still hope in numbers,
If the evilness of spirits can be washed away.

The music speaks to me and touches my senses,
And reminds me of moments wasted in my presence.
Do I dare awake and speak the truth without silence,
Or Do I become a slave of the weakness of my conscience.

Pit,Pat,Pit,Pat,Pit,Pat,Pit,Pat,
The water droplets are now increasing dangerously,
I must force myself to awake and face realility,
Or forever be empowered by dreams unbecoming of mortals.

Oscar Elizondo
Copyright ©2008 OscarElizondo

Pit,Pat,Pit,Pat,Pit,Pat,Pit,Pat

oscarelizondo

Harlingen, United States

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

Inside the mind of a dream.

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