A thousand dreams I have experienced and all were better than my reality Forty years I have lived on this planet and all I believe in is eternity Not for the body of course but for the soul that searches celestially I have physically experienced almost every endurance and most mentally I have walked in the desert with no want of water,no hope to be thirsty I have looked upon my peers and seen only banality Just one dream became real and that is the one I had as a baby I dreamt I was alone in this world with nothing but plenty A life full of a thousand dreams and I will let myself be empty If this sounds familiar and it should then join the world’s majority As for death being the final breath then it is true but we are merely transitory
I am a poet through and through and anyone that tells you different you must deny it and slap them across the face very roughly indeed. I love the normal things in life and turning them into mysterious meaningful emotionally attached fascinating object or subjects.
Once I was in the world as a man But my body was not found anywhere more than Uncertainty around the moving earth happened Then Sudden accident Damaged my brain how and where No one could be said I thought
“Dreams, against a wakening mind, like fleeting clouds, Weaken, vanish, and silently evanesce at daybreak … Nebulous dreams of a land unknown, Wishful hopes of a life unchained, Wistful fantasies of ambitions unbridled. Uncanny fears of a destiny uncertain Persistent
There are many dreams kept in my heart, dreams that sway my soul; dreams of great fire burning, simmering ‘but no one stops to warm themselves long enough, strangers only see a wisp of smoke. I can almost unveil to
I slumber into a Magical Dreams A castle appears from five magical beans A kingdom up in the air I mount a flying horse That takes me their Giants are counting golden eggs Rocking themselves in musical chairs I own
A dream what is that exactly, a reason to live, love, laugh, follow your heart. His heart, her heart, your heart, my heart, their hearts even our own hearts, from that first newborn smack on our baby bottoms, to wail
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