Someday I will find,
Those lost beings without words,
Without language,
Bound by chains,
Bleeding from their eyes.
I will dream with them,
And chant with them their unwritten verses,
For love is not a crime.
You, without form,
May the wind remind you,
Of those thoughts that cloud your memories,
Thoughts that you've chosen,
To keep under lock and key.
Unlock those treasures,
Before you fill your belly with sacrificial blood,
And the endless longing breaks you apart.
You, without form,
While every soul lies asleep,
In cold cold mornings,
I shall look for you in that misty haze.
I can only hope, that,
Your embrace is warm.
~ 2018 ~
YOU ARE READING
Dreamscapes and Paper Moons
PoesíaIs what you see in front of you real or are we all just gazing at a paper moon? Reality is sometimes like a dream (or a nightmare), while dreams may seem palpably real. If this is our world, what do we do? How do we find our true selves? A collectio...
