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Updated on September 7, 2015

We drift

across Time’s plane –

finite and etched in space;

a rift,


to map the breadth of days

of life mundane.


in paltry noise,

enmeshed within a web –


with trinkets small;

a silent empty ebb

of jeweled ploys

We seek

yet find

the soul decayed;

too bleak

and blind

while spirit wanes away;

at surface bask

in glory, pleasure, gain –

a burnished mask,

yet vain.

We coast

while seconds flee

amidst the din and strife;

and bow

to mores, theories, faiths,

delusive hopes,

inertia of days;

to think

that we should grasp

each precious shard that crafts

this whole of Life.

Is Life a Dream?


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    • Muses on Life profile image

      Samantha Lim 2 years ago

      Thanks for stopping by @swalia.

      @David Trujillo, sometimes it does seem that way.

    • David Trujillo profile image

      David Trujillo Uribe 2 years ago from Medellin, Colombia

      Life is a dream, but not to be considered apart from reality. It is as vital to our progess in real life as life after death.

      Ahhh, that last part is almost poetic :)

    • swalia profile image

      Shaloo Walia 2 years ago from India

      beautiful words!

    • Muses on Life profile image

      Samantha Lim 2 years ago

      Thank you, Lisa VanVorst :)

    • lisavanvorst profile image

      Lisa VanVorst 2 years ago from New Jersey

      Beautiful and well written.