Here I am, under the bright sky
with a dazzling beam and a cheerful eye.
Here in the pasture, where the greens have scattered,
I lay underneath a tree of apples.
I am alone.
I am okay.
I am happy.
Wait, who am I kidding?
This is only a dream.
I refuse to wake,
I refuse to open my eyes.
Because if I do,
my fantasies might vanish
together with the
dazzling beam and the
cheerful eye.
Or if I choose to wake,
I might not wake in time.
The apples must've been
poisoned by the witch
while I slept in peace.
YOU ARE READING
Fragments - daily dose of poetry and prose
PoetryYour daily dose of poetry and prose! (and maybe a glimpse to what's happening in my life.) It's basically a collection of my writings. May they give you a sense of comfort that you are not alone in the battle you are constantly fighting. Here's to...
