I see the daisies and the tulips;
the green and the floating ship-
"Come, into this world of love"
Loud he shouted,
that man with white gloves.
One, two, three...- I count the clouds.
No grey, just a lot of blue.
Maybe it's true, maybe there's a world
Far above in this altitude.
I remember my slumber, I remember my pain.
I remember my last meal- oats and a lot of grains.
I remember how you took away my last breath and
Held me captive- locked up with death.
But here I am.
I feel the wind- fresh.
The pulchritude.
I see the people I love- happy.
I see no tears, not a single face that's gloomy.
And then he whispered in my ear,
That man with the gloves? Yes.
Heaven may not be what it seems.
But we can always dream dream dream.
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 11:44 AM UTC
I see the daisies and the tulips;
the green and the floating ship-
"Come, into this world of love"
Loud he shouted,
that man with white gloves.
One, two, three...- I count the clouds.
No grey, just a lot of blue.
Maybe it's true, maybe there's a world
Far above in this altitude.
I remember my slumber, I remember my pain.
I remember my last meal- oats and a lot of grains.
I remember how you took away my last breath and
Held me captive- locked up with death.
But here I am.
I feel the wind- fresh.
The pulchritude.
I see the people I love- happy.
I see no tears, not a single face that's gloomy.
And then he whispered in my ear,
That man with the gloves? Yes.
Heaven may not be what it seems.
But we can always dream dream dream.