The poet in my dream -
Sees colours through dull beauty,
and sings poems with blunt words.
Draws rainbow with a black pencil,
and paints on my mind, eyes closed.

The poet in my dream -
Stands still with me, waiting on sunrise,
smiles to the birds, and speaks to the trees.
Dawn in our hearts as we drift through sunset,
As silent whispers rhyme within our chests.

The poet in my dream - and me
The explosion bursts, in the calmness.
The sovereign amplifies, in humbleness.
The night so bright, as the sun can be.
And we see the sunlight,
colourful as a 60s movie.

I asked the poet in my dream,
What is life without beauty,
What is mind without clarity.
And as the poet be a poet,
He answers in riddles and beauty of words.
That is all I need, my hunger and thirst,
Be it a question, or a provoking thought,
I live with a hope, to be the poet.