[Lindel]

Tryptophan



[Act 1; Of Slumber]

There's a land where troubles don't exist, though shortly that recedes
As a memoir of my slumber state which morning's wrath besieged;
Thus, I lust the tune which Umber'd play and lull me back asleep
Now people notice, even under day's patrol, he's basked in dream

Catching Z's, caught when I'm conscious; someone told me that's extreme
Counting minutes as the clock-ticks, but it's only passin' three
New-found attention in my watch-wrist, 'cause as lonely as it seems
I've a companion in that zodiac regime

See, as the seconds flicker by, horizons pan to black from blue
Some accustom to the skies, but we, as Cancers have the moon
Whisperin' to us, "Close your eyes," until I am, at last consumed
I should've known to no surprise, we walk this land's expanse subdued

Wanderin' astray through a mirage of Paradise that seems so real
When we bathe in dream's ambrosia streams and seas of daffodils
Feast from their nectar to appease, an emptiness that we don't feel
Until Luna makes her retreat, and reality's factored still

Still my mind clings to those sweet saccharine fields; cloud by its lurking haze
A sensation that I'm still dreaming, even during day
Except that dream's become a nightmare that I yearn escape;
Keeping curtains hanged, 'cause the blinds perish thy burning rays

* * *

Once more, I'm mourning for Night's absence; thirst for her embrace
Woke up this morning and time-passed since, all my lusts condemn
For I'm too focused, fiending the fruit of the serpent's taste
Fair-warned nightfall tonight, I just might not wake up again

'Cause I don't ask whether my doting is condoning
I'm left dozing from a dosage of a dozen hundred-miligrams
I just know I need somewhere to chill; to take a trip to fan
And so I take a little Tryptophan

[Act 2; Of Ideal]

Ink bleeds into beasts as the pen is jotting schemes;
I re-read what I've brought to being, heed each sentence caught in dreams
Honestly deemed, I wish what I'd written depicted conscious things
Not only reveries I give image, when I'm in this lost ravine

Given expression is a freedom, and a feeling artists need
But it's repressed, because I've witnessed how my visions are decieved;
How my perspective is so fixed-in, that what's real is gone unseen
Now I'm obsessed with the consensus to a fence's hopping sheep

Modus operandi struggles, of one bound to fantasizing blues
Who paints settings with dreamer's eyes; believes the canvas lie is true
Concieves distorted portraits, nothing like the land's horizon view
And yet, its word is breathed through each vignette I am reciting to

Another side tells me: There's nothing wrong with chimeras expressed;
That I've no heart without these lusts- that they're the light-bearer; accept
That I've no soul without their touch- their need is like heroin, yes!
I've breathed the reason that I breathe, which means my prime error's regret

Telling me: I can tell- you feel you've fallen to Typhon's cell
You're trapped to all your fantasies; they've wrought your mind and sight repelled
But they've shed you their light amidst the darkness; your Orion's Belt
They've freed you, can't you see? The only entrapment, is life itself!

Yet even deep inside, that side couldn't say I've an honest quill
I'm mad at every inked sentence spurt from my feather; thoughts instilled
But I'm not mad, because I've been grant so madly obsessed with dreams,
But by the fact, no matter how I will them true.. they aren't real

* * *

Because of that, I hate everything bled out by the ink's account
Those words were from my heart, and now my heart is fucking bleeding out
But so much blood's being flown, nothing's left of me from the ceased amount;
Conscious eased-out my mind.. pinned-down under beasts of the sleeping bout

For dreams on my dome I've been doting, grant condolence
By condoning I'm left dozing from each anecdote; my wishes grant
Let me indulge within a dosage; don't antidote me from distant lands
'O, I just need a little Tryptophan

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