Waking Early

Waking early I lie,

Darkness still shrouds the sky.

One day or night I will die,

There will be no more awakening to the sky.

Is death the final sleep,

Through which no dreams creep?

Or a perpetual dream,

wherein our consciousness forever streams?

Often, when dreaming, I believe myself to be awake.

On waking, I realise my mistake.

But how can I be certain the land of sleep is behind,

That I am not in a dream confined?

I lack the wisdom of a divine,

So can not answers find.