My Thoughts of a Wandering Mind

In my dream I am in a dark room,

no lights very humid,

the lights begin to flicker,

surrounded I am by obscene amounts of steam,

I guess this humidity is,

brought upon by my stupidity and inability to think correctly,

so my mind begins to bleed profusely,

of inner thoughts stored within,

so as I sit alone in the corner with this pen,

a paper appears floating in front of me,

reaching to grab it, the paper fly's away,

so weary I am, I beg for it to come back,

It returns in the form of a thick paperback ,

grasping it with both hands,

As I begin to vigorously write my thoughts,

I suspiciously hear a voice which continuously tells me to keep writing and as I do,

I begin to breathe much easier,

becoming more concentrated on my thoughts,

I fell into a trance, where my mind would just idle,

through my words, something began to form,

in front of me and as it did the darkness ,transformed into a storm,

something completely out of the norm, it was

a replica of myself which then took my hand,

and the storm became calm,

the sun escaped from the clouds grass began to glow,

flowers began to bloom,

and I am no longer suffocating in an enclosed room,

I awake now in my bed grasping my chest,

realizing it was just stress in my head.