The new chapter “A Labyrinth Of Dreams” more than any other, through the dreams of a faun, guided by the moon, echoes Endymion. Though where Keats found sentiment in beauty ~ I did not forget its shadows and the labyrinths of power that stretch before him.
Where Homer had the page, we now have cinema ~ this is cinematic poetry, the fusion of word, image, sound, and presence. An aesthetic dimension where dreams are not just idle, but lived experience. Explored through the awesome and boundless adventure that is web3 ~ and its big show at @NFCsummit
“A Labyrinth Of Dreams” draws upon myth and relic, in the contemporary canon of art. The faun is chased through the forest of the cosmos by the cloaked ghost of a Demon King, drawn toward a Goddess Of The Moon whose kiss carries prophecy. It is a spiritual odyssey and a beautiful reckoning.
A New Romantic vision: where art is not just seen, but felt, suffered, transcended.
The labyrinth is a spiritual quest for beauty. Through its corridors we chase after the unobtainable: the ideal, the beloved, the self yet to be formed. The amulet glows. Paradise trembles. The forest sings.
“It blooms, at last it blooms.”
A Labyrinth Of Dreams is a portal,
A myth, lived.
A letter to Destiny.
A crown, lost and found.
Quite simply a dream.
A Labyrinth Of Dreams
Even the strongest Emperor can be undone
By the promise of a girl he once loved,
And the whispers of the Queen he truly wants ~
Whether she be for the night,
Or be the one.
The closest secrets he keeps,
Locked in stone and bronze,
Unfold letter by letter
From the suggestion of her tongue.
He will promise the Kingdom
For the beauty he has not yet won.
Whether her tongue is forked
Or speaks with one ~
It matters not.
For the cost of love
Is the cost of Elysium.
That amulet she gave me
It was for Destiny
I took paradise as she asked
I am the man I wanted to be at last
I dreamt on it,
To dream, it was a dream, I dreamt on it at last, sleep some more, at last it was a dream, I dreamt on it at last.
And all that was left was the moon ~
It glowed,
And I fell through.
In all my sight:
The world I left,
That was paradise.
I burned up all the skies,
The forest, the trees,
The dreams of endless night.
What wills me to the floating ~
Falls of gold and bloom ~
The turning of the moon.
What sights I saw
That stirred my soul.
And in that blessing, rules
A fire of nature.
I ran ~
My legs outstretched and shaking ~
Shook the rocks in labyrinth’s making.
Trembling over strength I built
Unto guilt, unto destiny.
The thoughts I felt ~
The universe did melt.
And through the webs of victory,
Hallucinations of cradle and grave
Made the man ~
Now who I am.
A vision of greatness
Could not bear to be the same.
Paradise blooms and blooms ~
It blooms, at last it blooms!
A promised land,
The land I found.
To all the sound has led me.
The people prosper,
The world in wonder.
What course they sail
Toward relics, toward treasure.
The courts were just the structure
For something much bigger ~
The future.
I am alive inside,
It builds to something greater.
To the glowing moon which woke
The golden-plated marble trees ~
Curious beyond all we see ~
For the love of Destiny.
The rush, the rush,
The burdens and the beauty ~
Outwards, outwards, I let out
All the flowers from my chest.
Inside are the waterfalls of time.
To trust, to hold all the world ~
Rolling marbles along the forest floor.
They roll and roll ~
Containing all the world:
The joy,
The folly,
And the girl.
To the wonder, to the wonder,
Midnight revels beneath raging thunder.
Time’s running out at last ~
It’s time for the plants in paradise to bloom.
As we all prepare beneath the light in the room,
Beneath the grand cascading stairs
We rustle our garments like moths emerged too soon
From our soft and unripe cocoons,
Wings fluttering ~
Made of the same silk that transformed us,
Framed by the jewels that adorned us.
The steam still lingered,
Like our wet dreams in the air,
Curling our locks ~
The wet silk of our hair.
It’s time, at last, for the plants in paradise to bloom.
The most beautiful scent of the month,
So sweet hardly any work gets done.
We linger by it ~ once in six years ~
A fragrance like tears of the moon.
The world ensconced in perfume
Of the wildest flowers.
For this, we langer for hours and hours.
It’s hotter than that knight’s tomb,
His gauntlets wrapped around a relic ~
Gold veins running through marble trunks.
And all the animals resound ~
The ones we see in regular hours,
And some that never come out.
Some we wish had receded into sound,
Like the coral bats’ echo,
The glow-dog’s yellow,
The howling bear’s voice ~ like a cello.
Or the skunk-baboon’s dripping gums ~
A lonesome fellow.
It’s time, at last, for the plants in paradise to bloom.
For that scent to fill the room,
Every corridor of the palace.
For this rare season, we obsess ~
And always, it’s gone too soon.
The final parts of this parade we piece together,
Anticipation hung by a tether.
Its arrival ~ we shout ~
It’s time at last
For the plants in paradise to bloom.
And its time
Is running out.
In the glowing stars that fall
In ivory and Mars ~
Gold and silver bars ~
Leaves that flowed downstream,
And beasts that called for the moon.
The forest was a promise
And glowed beneath the many moons.
And I was one at last ~
A single satyr cast free
From the shackles others were caught by.
And freedom was the grandest gesture.
For the free, I wandered.
For the free, I walked the path that freedom meant to me ~
To owe nothing to another.
I walked out of their cages,
Wandered out the bars like water over glass ~
And never saw them locked again.
Free.
For all of freedom’s thoughts I walked,
And I walked at my own pace,
Setting my footsteps on my own stage.
It was the poetry I built upon ~
My feet on the forest floor.
Freedom was the breeze that blew through the fiery course,
A course that set aflame a destiny.
Wading through the cool blue,
Where gold and glitter did glide through,
Her skin to piles of salt was water,
And the lake dissolved around particles of cool.
Glory was her adornment.
It was as she promised ~
The amulet’s visage come to life.
The reflection on the surface of the cool blue water
Was our faces.
We stayed and cursed the world ~
That was not perfect but for our gaze.
She sat by the maple bridge,
Surrounded by many ghosts.
The fish gather like glittering flowers
And the flowers alive with bees and bidders.
Toes on trees,
She sat by the maple bridge ~
Where moon meets sun in the same evening,
And it’s overrun with floating dust.
Guardians of still waters,
The gilded boats float by
Until there are none.
A voice that split serene
It was not Selene??
Here I found you in these wretched gardens
Did you think you could escape my clutches,
I build cathedrals underground.
I hope my arrival is not a disturbance
I have a gift for you
A letter
Will you read it?
~ Laurence Fuller, 2025
seth555
