I hope to see you in my dreams, in death. Waving hopelessly at fading circles in the background. Clutching at the thinnest straw, upon which surity of life prevails. In its pure awoken state, remounting and saluting over everything.
I pray against the fever of my soul, blindly painting portraits and resumes that i hope will cast a shadow into view. Love lapping over arches, wild as reeds and ranches swear their dull faith vanity risking all youth for clear as constant remonstrations.
A life as like no other, the silken swim of north facing happiness in melody embrace. A deft climb to grief where passion showed itself and strong, the weaker playful voices drill out death on the outskirts of fantasy in reverse.
I hope to see you in my dreams, tonight. Awash in silver coloured button tops, resting on the loop above my bed for eternity. The stars have ached and begged to sparkle at foot of what love had surely fitted out, the distance ran inside itself into adjoining skies as sweetly tears turned rain away from roaring crowds.
Every deep and darkness is a thing, within which clouds become the real unmerciful envisioned. Resting faces against the glasshouse coveting the pain and suffering from adoring nature’s bite, hovering gently aside the vanished memory of all the soft sad songs when morning light becomes midnight.
As if for you, all my stories of what a future brings or brought, the eerie waking to a sound of silence and remorse, the day breaking before the night, has left its lessons still untaught, all episodes and dangers real or sought, i wake within a dream to a day now nearer lived than lost.