Our dreams
Some people say it speak of words,
That lurk within us,
Never know how to escape,
Resurface at times,
In the subliminal realm,
Far from reality,
Yet feel too close at heart.
Among those ghostly hours,
Minutes even seconds,
Nothing remain to expect,
As the mind wander,
Saunter through subconscious ground,
Live different life,
Place we could be somebody else,
Feeling we long to feel,
Escapade we await,
Things we wonder how it felt,
Stunt we can never pull out.
Once I recalled playing a violin,
Learning it, practicing a duet,
With the love of my life,
Whatever the piece,
I hope it is Tchaikovsky,
We vow to meet,
At a little wooden dock,
Stood above a deep blue lake,
I remembered the warmth,
Butterflies unwilling to leave my chest,
Though it ended,
Before it could even start.
Once feeling how painful it is,
Watching someone die,
Right in front of my very eyes,
A comrade,
A loyal buddy to the very end,
It feel so hurtful,
You wish you wake up.
Most time it left something in me,
Something mere thoughts couldn't reach,
Deep craved desire,
Agony throbbing inside of me,
All at last converse,
Bringing with each of them,
A story to tell.
~ 🧡 ~
YOU ARE READING
Sunset Sky
PoetryI used to believe that magic never existed. But, overtime, more often i find myself speechless, beyond words and thrilled of what life got to offer. Surpassing the realm of imagination, again life just proves that it is not build of straight lines...
