These nights alone make me break inside the head of John Sullivan Cage.
Are these the words I choose to make ?
or are they what faith has chosen me to create.
Imaginative dreams with a self being.
Heart like a childs.
Mind like a poet.
These are words in patterns reformed.
Take my hand and then you'll wish to let go.
Walk with me in my dreams.
And we'll dance.
On clouds, waltz on glass and splatter dreams in a bag.
YOU ARE READING
The Meloncholy Diaries
PoetryThe Saints are misunderstood childhood friends who are seeing the world as what they want to be and through a sinners and a Christians point of view. They are all based on my creative saints. Still Ongoing though. List of the saints: Dreams Saint Ha...
