Years went by and a single dream
Intoxicated me like none other.
Willow leaves whispered silent lullabies
And the sunlight's rays poured into my haze
I stared longingly at the possibility.............
Yet these lustful diaries
so forbidden,
so drunk with rich fantasies,
the smell of each thought
fumed with tempestuous spirits
dragged me under into the lonely abyss.
And the fantasized romance became torture
and freedom -
limitation and liberation all at once.
This dream was a playground.
A sanctuary, a church to let my spirit soar.
Glorious joy I could feel, but only for a second
Then, the truth sank in
like a sinking ship
The shackles of a single question still haunts me
-- what if?
And I wonder.
The pain is dull, haunting, yet hangs over me constantly
I am reminded that I remained in my dream world.
Unable to speak up,
From the wisdom of the pure heart
Unable to see the dream was always on this earthly plain
In plain sight.
In frustation, rage, and pain
Silent pain
I flip through my poetry account
-- God damm it. I have done this before
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 12:53 AM UTC
Years went by and a single dream
Intoxicated me like none other.
Willow leaves whispered silent lullabies
And the sunlight's rays poured into my haze
I stared longingly at the possibility.............
Yet these lustful diaries
so forbidden,
so drunk with rich fantasies,
the smell of each thought
fumed with tempestuous spirits
dragged me under into the lonely abyss.
And the fantasized romance became torture
and freedom -
limitation and liberation all at once.
This dream was a playground.
A sanctuary, a church to let my spirit soar.
Glorious joy I could feel, but only for a second
Then, the truth sank in
like a sinking ship
The shackles of a single question still haunts me
-- what if?
And I wonder.
The pain is dull, haunting, yet hangs over me constantly
I am reminded that I remained in my dream world.
Unable to speak up,
From the wisdom of the pure heart
Unable to see the dream was always on this earthly plain
In plain sight.
In frustation, rage, and pain
Silent pain
I flip through my poetry account
-- God damm it. I have done this before
