Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Rustling thoughts

While the dream lasted, it felt all so real
To realise that the glimpse of the burning candle
Was the sun setting across the horizon.
The thoughts were bright & colourful.
Playing in the spring foilage with the blooming flowers.
Where laughter was easy to come
Looking at the butterflies & fireflies.

What is real, is it a nightmare
To which I have woken up
Or did I sleep.
Where the sounds weep.
Thorns adorn the weary traveller's path. Nothing ever as was before.

Life and its tragedies, living beyond
The shore. Of expectations & returns.

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