Sleepwalkers of the Fifth Dimension

Eyes closed, but I’m wide awake, Drifting past the dreamland’s gate. No up, no down, no pulse, no sound, Just voices blooming underground. A silver thread ties me to bed, But I’m out past where time has bled. Footsteps echo in no direction, Sleepwalkers born of pure reflection. In the fifth dimension, we roam alone, Beyond the flesh, beyond the known. Ghosts in suits of shimmering thought, Dreaming truths we once forgot. Sleepwalkers, chasing faded signs, Through silent realms between the lines. A staircase curls around the moon, I climb it humming some strange tune. A mirror laughs, a clock runs back, I trade my name for a zodiac. In a hallway lined with former lives, I see my mother blink five times— She tells me, “Child, it’s all pretend,” Then turns into the solar wind. In the fifth dimension, laws decay, Gravity slips, and thoughts obey. We wear our dreams like woven skin, Each door unlocked from deep within. Sleepwalkers whisper, “Follow me...” And leap into eternity. I met a man made of lightning scars, He played chess with dying stars. He said, “This place? It’s not untrue— It’s just the part you never knew.” Sleepwalkers, born from fire and breath, Waltzing on the edge of death. Not to die—but to transform, To find the self that breaks the norm. In the fifth dimension, we belong... Where night is wide, and dreams are strong. We are the sleepers, we are the key... Unlocking what the mind can’t see.