The Blind Dream


There happened to be a time,

when my sightless eyelet conversed

the content of my explicit soul.

So groping I was then, in means the ravage

of lightning was judged as

a light of comfort, mild as my eyes.



I dreamt then, of the deterrent sky,

as like hope from heaven, percolate.

And dreamt of earth, stagnant recess

for a billion questioned worries.

Tender so as meadows, I dreamt of love;

angelic she smelled of roses and vision.



There happened to be a day, a swift

sound of authority offered the luxury of vision,

bartered for the retains of my dreams,

And my cognizance agreed.



I saw sky, breathing blue demon,

with beard of white enclosing

the globe, and of which serenity withholds.

I saw earth, bizarre desert land blooming

A charred cactus in for mirage.

So did I saw a thousand loves,

each savoring the comfort behind

the selfish reflection in love’s eyes;

Love smelled of pain and scars.

I got sight, but my dreams wilted,

For now and forever.



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