Still sleeping, cocooned in a bed of sighs.
Sighs, that of dreamers,
Trying to work out why,
When they awoke, that their dreams are not true,
A perfect situation,
Imagined.
Inside a fluff ball brain contorted.
Why,
When dreams rattled into life they had no souls guarding them,
To make them come true.
Lovers never listen, only dreamers ever do.
And they talk and they babble,
Makes not much sense,
Had no substance.
Dreams discarded on waking, mere fantasy.
While the sleepers sleep,sentinels of the dark night watch,
They watch and look,
From the outside, they're looking in.
They are most intimate, preserving silent sleep,
Protagonist of sweet, safe and agreeable, embracing nights.
In preparation for the day of summer still to come,
So why upon catching the morning light, do you struggle out of R.E.M,
Not feeling revived,
When the dreams were so cool, you were settled and wed,
When truly you utter emotion's all dead,
At the end of the night, at the end of the week,
Awake once more,
Flying solo, alone.
Do you ever hear the sleeper moan?
(C) Livvi