How good are dreams? How useful? They sometimes stand as stark contrast to the Real...or they define all that one would hope to obtain on one's journey. I wish all that I love was part of a dream. Because dreams have possibilities. Reality is bare.
To dream is to turn to the unreal. To dream is to run away. To dream is to obtain relief from the pain of all that is so obviously impossible. To dream is to let Fancy berserk. To change people, places, circumstances. I wish you were a dream, far away from the jotted realms of my Life. I wish this grass under me was of a brighter shade, the Sky a little bluer, the Sun a bit more orange. I wish I could erase mistakes, unhurt myself, bend my choices the other way.
To live is to dream of dreams that elude perpetually. Like a deep sigh that forgets why it was born, mingling into smaller sighs released in memory of Life's multiple sorrows. To dream then I turn for discovering a faint whiff of all that has been smudged and stained forever.
To dream is to turn to the unreal. To dream is to run away. To dream is to obtain relief from the pain of all that is so obviously impossible. To dream is to let Fancy berserk. To change people, places, circumstances. I wish you were a dream, far away from the jotted realms of my Life. I wish this grass under me was of a brighter shade, the Sky a little bluer, the Sun a bit more orange. I wish I could erase mistakes, unhurt myself, bend my choices the other way.
To live is to dream of dreams that elude perpetually. Like a deep sigh that forgets why it was born, mingling into smaller sighs released in memory of Life's multiple sorrows. To dream then I turn for discovering a faint whiff of all that has been smudged and stained forever.
1 comment:
Makes me think and remember..would count as something good i read in a while...
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