The Nonsense Dream

How wonder ill! I had this dream,
Were torture came and wept as if a sea,
That buried land, and hope, and tree — reaching forth!
And reaching fro, cankered red and down below,
Away I raced, to cease my feet, fleeing fast into this dream.

In swift venture I burned and teemed,
And capsulated within, and froze and bleed.
Wrought in wiry wicker stream — “Came, saw and conquered!”
So said this purging, wrangling dream.
I held a light up to, and fell in current like the leaves.

“I can not understand this place!” said I and cried onto my face,
For-lost, forsaken, for-sunken and forehead I floundered and flunked,
Ascend, descending in colors that did trump
All mightiness that I could will, still I fell, still so stumped!
Caught in stoppage I could not yield, this belly-filled gargling wield.

Help and holy the dream did not comprehend,
It swept and sickened and all concept be damned!
What brimmed did it, and bubble like sand — budged outright!
And ousted my trunk and band.
It played my soul in orchestra and song, so long this dream,
so long, so long! A captive was I in this wonder ill!
And then all was so suddenly, quickly gone.

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