When dreams
Come to me
They fly on gilded wings
Flapping in the silence of night
When they are golden
They lie pure and happy
Curled within my embrace
Filling me with warmth
When they are angry, red, bulbous
Violent as the cruelty of Man
They dash rocks upon my battered soul
And play with my heart as a cat with its prey
As I sleep, I dream
Thoughts, ideas, emotions
Be it sorrowful or joyous
They leave me with the bitter aftertaste of reality.
YOU ARE READING
Dreams
PoetryScattered fragments of poetry of the soul, from haikus to rhyme. (#438 in poetry)
