Should I write

Walking out this dome of epic proportions

Chaotic mind stood still in contemplations

Natural at no thing in this world, ever

Only felt a vision realized in cherished fervor

Started with a talking box, near it I lunched

Engrossed in the makers’ mind, munched

To worlds unknown, to thoughts coerced

In the palm of fellow another, traversed

To thousand lands, with hundreds escaped

Never far away, always earthed, shaped

Burn bright, live long, hope millers binged

Many tried, many closed in but singed

Nothing compares and only babbles next to

“My Arrakis, my Dune”; emotions chip and shatter

To the gods I do not believe in and know do not exist

If not under a tree or the stars that persist

As the thumping, the chants and gasps appease

I plead to sit with this visual ballad and be haunted by peace