Where is the dream that once reached for the sky?
Where is the dream that soared like a bird, fearless and high?
Where is the dream that dove deep like a fish, exploring the ocean with wonder and wish?

Where is the dream that drifted like clouds,far from the noise, away from the crowds?
Where is the dream that smelled like a flower, spreading joy with its quiet power?


Where is the dream that closed its eyes,in a mother’s lap, beneath bedtime tunes?
Where is the dream that looked to the stars,hoping to reach where the heavens are?
Where is the dream that painted the sky in colors of hope, rising so high?


These dreams were born and grew with the years, nurtured by laughter, watered by tears.
But somewhere along the winding road,
They fell shattered in silence, carrying the load.

Was it growing up that made them fade?
Or the heavy weight of promises made?
Was it the burden of duty, quiet and unnamed?
Or the flood of emotions, too wild to be tamed?


Now I ask in the hush of the night,
Did these dreams ever truly take flight?
Or were they only a part of me
A beautiful illusion, longing to be free?

Yet deep inside, a soft voice says,
"The dream is not gone, it’s just lost in the haze."
Maybe it waits for a kinder day,
To rise again and find its way.

So I will search with an open heart,
To find that dream and make a new start.
Because dreams don’t die they simply sleep,
In the corners of our soul, buried deep.

What can I say the thoughts are thawed away
lingering mistakes.  

burns my heart  
falling apart  
okay  
blame me  misfortunes  

Hold my weight
Steal my back  
Waiting for everything

"If I offer myself as token, I stay comfortably broken"
I thought it make it more direct while adding some imagery to self reflect

She was busy counting wolves
conversing with crows
soft and white as a widow's linen.
They scoffed at her,
called her delicate,
only good for stew.
So she dug herself into stories,
buried beneath the noise
let them hunt after the myth of her,
never finding it.  
The forest swallowed her,
dried leaves and damp earth
scented with cinnamon
embracing her bones
in the hush of the underbrush.
She multiplied in silence
beneath the roots,
growing wild
through branches of wildflowers.
The thicket whispers a warning.
The hunters have gone missing,
and the doe-eyed jejune "varmint"
awakens whole, green with breath,
wild,
and never soft again.

I was given a gift, a tender thing
A heart that knew the songs to sing.
So full of love, so soft, so true,
It held a cure the cold once knew.

It cost me more than I could pay,
Yet still, I chose to give that way.
To thrive, it needed hearts as kind,
With gentle hands and quiet minds.

I wandered far through souls and faces,
Through empty halls and crowded places,
To find a heart that dared to feel,
To break, not hide behind what’s real.

But all I found were sharpened minds,
With pride and reason intertwined.
They saw its cracks, they mocked its beat
Too soft to win, too quick to bleed.

Each time it met a colder flame,
It broke in ways I couldn’t name.
I tried to guard it, held it tight,
But it was born to lose that fight.

And then I saw, with aching eyes,
That I, too, judged it, cold and wise.
I weighed it not in love, but thought,
And killed the grace that can't be taught.

A gift too pure for minds so keen,
It dimmed where coldest thoughts had been
So in the dark, I dug a grave,
For all the love I couldn’t save.

And there it sleeps beneath my chest
A precious gift, laid down to rest.

Her
Cutting through, dancing through
with petals rumbling beneath our feet,
we dip and twist, entwined by a whispering thread—
holding tight enough to turn you blue, but never red, my love.

I don’t know where it will strike—
but I know I’ll die with wrinkles around my lips,
comfort in my eyes,
knowing I made the greatest trade—
my life, for you, my light.

To have you hold me—
guide me when sight fades, catch me as my body fails,
your gaze speaking volumes beyond words,
holding me soft and fragile—
so precious no one else could ever recreate this, my dear.

Him
On crumbling petals, I dance with you,
making sure I don’t crumble beneath your weight,
so fragile—
I don’t want to hold you so tight it causes pain,
nor let the world’s hurt reach you, my angel.

Sealed—
my lips cannot speak the depth of your meaning,
so I plead for you to see in my eyes
all the words they cannot say, my flame.
If the blade falls after claiming a head,

Let it be mine—
I will take the strike,
shield you from every wound, my oath.
With a smile,
love burning in my eyes for you,
there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, my heart.

Though my lips may be silent—
for you my legs stand firm to walk beside you,
my arms grow strong to hold you close,
my eyes sharpen to find you if you stray, my light.

My heart burns—
a calm fire fueled by love,
the most painful moments made beautiful by you, my salvation.
You are my heaven on earth,
the cure to every pain,

The beat within my chest—
and so I beat,
always, for you, my love.

Together—
we guide each other through,
hoping the blade never falls—
not because we fear the end,
but because we want to hold and lead each other,
not out of need,
but out of love.
“Moonlace”

Drown in your sorrow and fears,
Choke on your blood and your tears.
Bleed 'til you've run out of years.

     We must do what it takes to survive!

     Give up your honor and faith,
Live up your life as a wraith.
Die in the blood where you bathe

     We must do what it takes to survive

     We are the same, you and I

I care. Really, I do.
I’m a monster and a ******,
                    but I still have a heart,
                                                albeit rather
unfortunately.

I’m trying my best to be
   less of a no one and more of a someone,
                                                        more of a person.
To care more,
          to love more,
                     to take less
                        and give more.

I don’t care if it leaves me

broken.

But in some way I still

do.

It’s selfish to put myself before everyone else,
                                                          Yes, I know that-
And it’s horrid that I think I should treat myself
to the privilege of wanting something
that isn’t going to go to
                         someone else.
                     Yes, I know that too-

And it’s such a pity that I can’t bring myself
to tear my heart out of my chest
or rip my soul out of my body
and give it to you like I desperately want to.
Because I care.

Really,

         I do.