Spirits of a Dream Catcher

Threads thatch into a white net of discard,
A sophistication of complication poised adrift on a door handle,
Nightmares haunting the insecurity of our imaginations,
Editing the joyful memories of the future into undeniable horror,
Twisting like a cobra strangling disturbing nightmares in amalgamation,
Hauled off kicking and screaming inside out into a filter,
Transporting it back to the centre of the mind,
A nightmare changes its heart into a swift dream,
My soul bathes itself in the new dream's purity and honesty,
A dash of satin and beads of coal prides up the construction of spirits,
Feathers stained in dials of fawn putting out of pockets of positivity,
A ring droops above directing the stranded angles into the centre,
Shadows of the string create a backdrop for an 80's noir film,
The intricacies indulge the naked pupil reflecting African Americans,
Flown through many fingers in Seminyak's centre,
became a possession of mine underneath a shield of Balinese sunset,
Tones and tangles nourished under excessive shade,
My dreams lie on a horizon of spiritual superiority,
But as long as peace sprints through the dream catcher,
I'm a sleeping beauty at mind...