The Reality of DreamsA Poem by Anna
There's a man who is dreaming softly,
when his younger friend appears to him. A nightmare unwinds, terrors lofty; binds and ties, breaks and cuts them. The man awakens in a cold room, with a distant moon paling his face. He cries in a cloud of momentary doom; red tear lines, seldom falling in this place. There's a man who is gazing away, when his younger friend shouts to him. A battle unfolds, an argument grey; twists and shakes, hurts and shadows them. The man escapes to a candle-lit somewhere, plagued by the thoughts he buried. He trembles in smoke filled, wax scented air; burdens dropped, dragged, not carried. There's a man who is sinking slowly, when his younger friend tugs at him. A healing begins, intentions holy; soothes and comforts, but aches them. The man runs down yellow-wooded lanes, with gentle magnolias growing near. He remembers an older man with childish pains; when the younger friend was he, caught by fear.
© 2017 AnnaAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorAnnaRaos Crest, NowhereAbout"I say, Wendy...Always if you see me forgetting you, just keep on saying 'I'm Wendy,' and then I'll remember." more..Writing
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