In occasional fancy my conscious thoughts have intertwined

With numerous visions of imagination conjured by the mind

I seek to broker a sense of peace for my restless, weary soul

Something beyond the reach of eroding time’s vanquishing toll

The reaper has been barred from entry into this sacred space

He stalks, but to no avail, his shadow shall not obscure my face

My imagination though wild and free is concealed within my brain

I choose what may take up residence or what shall be refrained

Unlike the invasive reach of reality that advances unrestrained

Concepts of life or death unveil themselves based upon my whims

Just as easily as thoughts of happiness or something far more grim

But it matters not in fits of fancy for they are bound not by reality

Creative imagination has no boundaries, it is allowed to be free

So, when I choose who or what shall be let loose inside my head

I accept which way the flight of fancy may turn without any dread

As an observer of such cerebral events, I glean what’s worth decree

Perhaps I shall keep it to myself or put it down on paper for another to see