Beyond the taste of dreams

Blur and black, what the ravens so lack:

A mix of brawn and brains.

We ignorant ones,
the ones that run,
and create nightmares ever so tame.

Crouching down, screaming at sounds
in the lands beyond reason;
The natural things,
through distortions,
become the darkest seasons.

Human kind ever so blind,
in the days of modern lies;
yet still we hang from blur and brains,
our dreams shall never subside.

From the Colosseum comes good and wrong,

sounds that state:
Fear.
It is the root.

So let us shed and pure our minds:
The blackest and deepest of soot's.

If i seem right,
these vibes ignored thrive;
Things like ravens,
brawn and black, turn to fiends we keep alive.

Hold on tight, were losing our only perceptions;
I can only hope in years too distraught,
we have not destroyed our senses.

I have placed myself
into a hope-full fantasy of streams;
In hopes, when my mind is gone,
i can remember beyond...

the taste of dreams.