Stay with me awhile, don't open our eyes,
Even when morning breaks, let's believe in the lies.
I don't want to wake from this dream so dear,
Even if it's cliché, let me hold it near.
In this fleeting moment, let's treasure what we share,
In my story, you'd be mine, a love so rare.
But in reality, you don't exist, my dear dove,
Yet in this dream, you're the one I truly love.
YOU ARE READING
It's Still 12a.m.
PoetryAs the clock's final whisper embraced the dying day, darkness enveloped my room. Raindrops danced upon the fog-kissed windowpane. In the gentle glow of a dimmed lamp, I sat at my table, pen poised to capture the thoughts that flowed from the depths...
