Fantastical Forest

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In my dreams, I am free. Cloaked in fur glistening silver from the moon, I bleed into the night, becoming one with the stars. Pads tender as moss, I slink through the forest without the faintest sound, that is except for the pounding. The steady beating drum of my heart echoes in diligently perked ears, kissing the whisps of feathery fur. Faster and faster paws fly, gripping the Earth in hello then sudden goodbye. I may be human by light, but I am wolf by night; I am the forest, the wind, the Earth and stars just as they are me. I thunder through the mystical forest of my imagination, feet hardly brushing the ground and breath ragged, yet I don't stop for I've never felt so alive, invigorated by the blood coursing through my veins. This world may as well be real for I exist here; it is a part of me. If I can dream this wild and free existence, then could it not be a version of my reality?

Sweet, sweet release of sleep, please take me. My human world has been tainted by sickness, pain, and dull routines. When I close my eyes, I can drift away from a prismatic reality I otherwise cannot escape. Lying here burdened by the weight of a body who has given in long before my mind, each breath forced and reciprocated with sharp pinpricks along chest and spine. A soul trapped, encased in fireworks and tendrils of smoke. Let me burn, so I may be reborn from the ashes of what I once was or let the darkness claim me so I may become once more who I am: free and one with the night.