Question by L. Brevsky: Enough with teddy bears, I say. I deal in dreamscapes – C/C?
The Grandness of our Pursuit

A dream dreamt is quite a burdensome thing,
In fact it often hangs about one, stooped,
A dying conscience adrift in shifting
Sands. Dark pleasances, green with infant joy
And bedewed with the moist kisses of dawn
Turn to dust and ochre stains; spark’ling streams,
Plump with fish and fowl, turn arid; beauty
Arrests its gaze, its visage sags with age.
Time wastes upon the sea, her glass trick’ling
To the green cadence, whiling away to
The pounding echo; we sit on the shore
Of this crawling behemoth, this cruel sphinx
Of our imagination, affixed to
Its monstrous crown and sneering brow, wakeful
Of its sleepless conjury, the likes of
Which we await restively—a dream dreamt.

Best answer:

Answer by Josh
Some impressive word slinging. Has an archaic feel. Works for it. Some very striking imagery with the Sphinx and nature descriptions. You’re talented.

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