About a lucid dream.

bound to my dreamworld alarm clock sounds,
i awaken to this realm where my conscious knows no bounds,
And as this dreamworld disappears, I adjust to which surrounds
confounded by the shroud of a hazy morning vision
so my eyelids droop, stoop back to shut position,
and I dive back to the system where my syntax collapses
granting me the access to every single remnant
leading up to the gates of the realm in which i entered in
under maps and over boulders, evolving, growing older
molded to the point where my wings cant be clipped
slide across your radar screen as a set of blinking blips as
blurred occurrences zoom across the film strips
the actor plays along yet he knows no script,
blind to the process so he cant read lips
and he's strung along until his dignity is finally stripped
rip cleanly from his function,
in conjunction with the process of this ever growing humble stumblin out the building blocks,
Building plots I concocts
Saving face --- a facade
And in one fell swoop --- I lost my front and my walk