The sac rough on his back, the flies played hide and seek around his mouth,
Sunrays only lightly reaching his sleeping form, There was a river between what people saw and where his truth lay.
With the footsteps lightly stride past, his mind was miles away.
He saw it, felt the rush and even understood the language.. Priviledge.
In his dreams, it was nothing about survival but more about satisfaction,
Luxury wasn’t a priviledge, a coveted asset.
It was his way of life.
He was a wild drummer, throwing his drum sticks into the air and catching them mid-air,
He was the plain silence that awaits the noise. A juggler who enjoys the balance and the crash.
It had nothing to do with perfection.
His soul was one with the universe. He chose to be the chosen One.
Just like a wave he rode; raising his head to see further into the sea he was engulfed in,
He slouched under the weight of velvet; taking the lead, he held the elixir of life
He was a man.
Pangs of hunger wake him. The stench hitting him, he realizes it was nothing but a dream.
A smile on his face; he stretches his arms and turns to his other side,
Closing his eyes ,he pursues his dreams some more.