As we sleep,
They roam the earth.
They're ghosts
Looking for a body to possess
Like a lonely child
In search of a friend.
They start off boring;
A shade of all-white
A blank expansion.
They explode with colors
And muted music,
Screaming exciting.
The two are destined to combine.
Tackling one another,
They mix together as yin and yang do.
Opposites
But they form the perfect dream.
Shades of black create nightmares,
Terrorizing the vibrancy.
The dreams that are frightless
Are proof of the dripping paint buckets
Raining on your parade;
Splashing
Tossing
Spilling colors in the tightest crevices.
Nightmares are the white sun
Bleaching vibrant colors
To a faded beauty
No longer in existence.
Eyelids drift apart,
Leaving a vague memory as remains.