Fiction arises from my dreamy mind

Where a pathway opens for me to find

New moons, new suns, new planets, new worlds

New faces, new lives, things of new kind.

I look around and all that I can see

Is something that surfaces beyond me

Where my senses travel into magical worlds,

And where it is the imagination set free.

These fantasies that devours my mind

With imageries of whole new find

That shoots me far off galactic worlds

To find myself into a new era kind.

Stars that shine red is all that I can see

Morphing faces is all that surround me

Where I am omniscience into strange worlds

As I unleash my mind to set the words free.

I plunge into a hive of fictional data,

Alongside dancing colloquial spectral

Where everything becomes luminescent

For fiction to arise from my dreamy mind.


It’s called fiction for a reason, it’s art for the sake of art, it’s fiction for the sake of fiction. Works of fiction are made up stories that are meant to tickle the fancy of readers; a material for evasion and distraction.