Another breath. Another moment. Another day. Another night.
The Shriek I detest the drear The ebon night Pale at the stars In the bright moonlight Cower from the creaking Cringe from the shrieks It’s all in the mind My inner self shrieks Photo by Michael Mouritz on Unsplash
These dreams defy the mind of manEscape the touch of womanThese dreams are lost in fog and swirlsAbiding with the forgottenThough deemed as penance, souls long goneThe truth, they serve a purposeFor intangible pastimes I’ll n’er wantBy nature ever restless Image courtesy Aziz Acharki on Unsplash.com
Life ended when I dreamt you.
Is it wrong to dream?
It was an idea, a fanciful dream. I packed nothing and left everything. The plantations were green, not brown. A prevailing wind filtered out the sounds of humanity’s pickers but the life I had wished for never existed. I returned home deflated. My mum smiled and offered me a coffee.
We’re meeting in landscapes Joined at the soul Waiting nightly for sleep To roam beautiful dreams
Francesca breezed amongst the flowers like a butterfly on the wing, light and carefree. Dressed for the summer even though it was cool, her silk blouse tousled in synchronicity to her long, blonde hair, her smile radiant. I could’ve watched her all day. Looking longingly from my window, I did.
And though the world be silhouette, the definition of thy lines holds more power than any vibrant memory. In each stroke I remember, each molecule of ink I feel. This is no random symmetry, no desperate thought reformed, but all I was and am and wish. Brush strokes on a canvas to you and she […]
“When choosing a car, one chooses another’s created dream.” “When choosing a book, one creates one’s own dreams.”