life is only but a dream

life's only but a dream and

we are all walking, talking

characters in it, merely

products of vivid imagination.

now we're there, and now we're not,

now present and -whoosh­-

gone.

without a reason we live in a dream

and still in this surreal sphere

 dream.

here some become, some get undone,

but all gone the next morning

with the awakening of our dreamy

ignorant slumber.

so is this morning, this awakening

our death?