“Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.”
Says the poet Hughes
Of Harlem Renaissance.
So, I pass my days of fire
And quakes with joy,
If all is taken
Dreams accompany me to the grave.
Alas! How mistaken am I?
Even, dreams can draw death,
I am ashamed of my stupidity now.
In Plutarch’s Life of Dion,
The tyrant, Dionysius slew Marsyas,
For Marsyas had a dream
Of killing Dionysius.
Dionysius argues,
Had he not thought
Of killing him in the day,
He would not have dreamed
Of killing him at night.
So, he slew his captain,
For he dared to dream.
We live in an age of monsters,
Tyrants, killers, mass murderers,
And they can kill you in a second,
If they know your dreams.
And in the age of surveillance,
They can process your dreams,
And you be jailed if lucky,
Or put to death for your dreams,
If they will.
And on that day,
No Hughes can save you, friends.
