Muse is Upon Me

The star casts out a lone beam
upon the midnight plane.

Consciousness eludes the sleeping lions
in a warped dimension
not far from our own,
where honor and courage are destroyed
by depth and knowledge.

We cannot explain
these strange bonds
that adhere to the facets
of our imaginations.

Living as a courageous foe
mocks the beauty of protagonism.

And where lie our protagonists?
Sleeping with the lions
upon the midnight plane?

In this dimension
there is a red product:
multiplication,
segregation,
the red product.

Protagonists eat bagels
with cream cheese.

Just looking
into this warped dimension.

The last product.

The sleeping protagonists.

Dimensional.

A hair of truth and knowledge
causes me to

muse.