PIECES OF SLUMBER

Sometimes, when the night is quiet enough, we can still feel it.
Like a memory knocking softly, asking if we can still remember everything inside our dreams.

The fragments.
The quiet thoughts.
Even the adventurous wonders.

We linger in them, hoping our dreams will lead us somewhere enchanting. We dream. We imagine. We wander into the great abyss-getting lost inside our own Dreamland.

The stories we are meant to hold are meant to be written. Each one carries its own tale, its own chapter.

And as a dreamer longing to remember, I wrote this for you-
to immerse yourself,
and to join me inside my dream.