By: Jacob La Mar
In the midnight hours of silence,
Harboring a not so peaceful sleep,
Dreams come to life,
From the pathways which they keep.
The innocence of words,
From a non-hindered mind,
Regular human insecurities,
Cast to the side.
The shadows on the walls,
Skin they cannot find,
Because all that’s left to hear,
The wondrous prayers of the mind.
The deepest feelings,
From the deepest depth of a being,
Resonance of every noise,
Made, or non-made, rings.
Every shudder or quake,
Every twitch, every sigh,
Falls under privilege,
Of enamored eyes.
But still dreams lie to sleep,
Beautiful senses go to rest,
Harboring dreams and fantasies,
Sleep in these hours of silence.
No comments:
Post a Comment