A factory sits atop

A rolling emerald hill.

Olive green blades

Prod forth from the soil.

Elegant and ethereal

From the outside,

But on the inside

The Factory

Is nothing more

Than four cemented walls-

Gray, dull, and dead.

The entirety of the walls

Are shelved with

Crystal prisms

That house dreams.

Dreams of family,

of love,

of self.

The Factory of Dreams

Manufactures Dreamers

For those who can

afford to dream.

In the Department of Happiness,

A boy named Eislyn

Works laboriously

Lining crystal prisms

On the labyrinth of shelves.

His eyes are an unnatural lilac.

And in the world inside

Void of all color,

His eyes are nothing

Short of magic.

He’s sold all his dreams-

Just like the other Dreamers.

He's sold them all.

All but one.

The one about the Girl

Who works in the

Department of Storage and Confiscation.

Her eyes too

Are unwelcome

In this dull world.

Because the ember brown in them

Remind people of something

Called soil.

Soil that once gave life to

An entity known as trees.

And those trees

Are said to have bore fruit

The color of rubies.

Eislyn dreams of Her

Now and then.

He hasn’t let the Factory

Confiscate that dream


He dreams to one day

Leave the factory

With Her.

And live in a world

Where Their dreams are

Entirely Their own.

And they don't have to

Put them up for sale

Just to feed themselves

And survive.

But that’s impossible.

He knows.

But today is the day

He plans on letting

The Girl

Confiscate His dream

Of Her.

And to store it

In a crystal prism

Where He will have

No right to it.

Where He’ll forget

The words

To describe the way

The light plays

In the shade

Of Her lashes.

He needs to do this

He knows.

This world has no place

For a Dreamer

Who Dreams

A Dream

That is entirely His own.

He walks down

A winding staircase.

Down, Down.

Adjusting his

Colorless, work overalls

Which lend no autonomy

To His personality.

But He has no need

For that sort of individuality.

His eyes reflect

His entire being in them.

Down, down.

He waits in a line

With the other Dreamers.

And finally

It’s His turn.

He sees her.

He lets Her extract the dream

Without so much as a sigh

Of discontent.

While She surveys and scans it-

He swears Her eyes

Seem a little brighter.

And for the first time,

She finally speaks.

Her voice as smooth

As nectar.

“Your name means 'Dream,'”

She whispers.

Of course, He knows that

His mother didn’t want

This for Him.

He nods.

She slips him the crystal prism.

“Then keep this.”

His hands fold over the prism



As she restores His dream back.

Not to His heart alone

but to His mind too.

For a Dream

that is Dreamt

with the heart and mind

becomes a goal.

She deletes its existence

From the database.

And Eislyn walks away

Somehow knowing

That one day

He can break free

And quit this hell

Called the Dream Factory.