Lykren
01-07-2014, 04:04 AM
On waking, dreams yield
to greater dreams, imperfect
in their resemblance to statues.
The statues themselves,
deep in green shadows,
remember nothing.
And my heart is keeping quiet.
On sleeping, wings and leaves
grow indistinguishable, and enter
the mouths of ordinary lovers
as calmly as the glade
becomes an inferno.
And my heart is keeping quiet.
to greater dreams, imperfect
in their resemblance to statues.
The statues themselves,
deep in green shadows,
remember nothing.
And my heart is keeping quiet.
On sleeping, wings and leaves
grow indistinguishable, and enter
the mouths of ordinary lovers
as calmly as the glade
becomes an inferno.
And my heart is keeping quiet.