Slumber

As I lay in  bed, my sleep far from me. I have a world of comfort sprawled around me. My eyes and hands embracing a world far from this, a place of safety. A land that thrusts its words to my head to explode in picturesque beauty. Yet next to me is beauty undoubtedly equal. The silence of REM transforming away all portrayed emotions. Soft undercurrents of beaten innocence, cries of distress for foiled salvations. No need to look strong next to me in slumber, a master of self, mine to devour. Dismissing the need to touch my muse lest it stir out of tranquility. Softly even in sleep it touches my soul.