The life and death of dreaming

The slumber of this fatal beauty

drives the tides of her dreams,

to the heights of the sublime

eternally floating in the ether,

a temporal yet angelic body,

winging her way heavenwards.

Or to the depths of the mundane

where holy becomes an evil form

and slender slides the cruel snake,

a flightless bird, doomed to walk

and never to soar, a stifled roar

a dreadful long drawn out sigh.

2 thoughts on “The life and death of dreaming

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