Limbic memories harked back to the crisp smell of foreign land. Your arms enfolded into mine as the streets beckoned, silently. The Royal cul de sac ran deep – tall yet forlorn.

Man and Nature met, to which glass were adjoined trunks of trees. Amongst the sway of verdure whispered the prayers of mankind left. Much as feet could bare, the earth gently rumbled. 

Solitary pieces advanced as stuffed toys squeaked. Lands flooded with evocative images – of events known. Ridges atop the backgammon cracked as doubling cubes fell. Quadrants divided. 

Flashes streaked of purple and blue. Dry green and dirty grey were Fear’s new colours. In pellucid prose, such transparency hollered. The fortified glasshouse was this city’s saving grace…ours. 

Smirks bumped along high tables, arrows flew. Geography separated the three couples – Imperious Mother united them. The air caught stills as whales made way. Limpid waters sloshed in all its ten metres of glory. 

Heisenberg podiumed with pride as fuzzy Nature sang. Small scales begot anarchy. Howling bundles buckled knees. And in the tuneless caterwaul I saw, the fourth. 

Awake !

Pupils dilated, lessons adrift. It was but a dream.

Alexander Shao-Rong Pang

Meaning within: ‘Awake !’ paints a wild dream about the end of days.