There was a time when I’d still dream,
without knowing what dreams were.
Now I know, the world ends at the waking.
And every story told is a sweet parting upon dawn,
and each field we plow and sow,
a ceaseless labouring for the pain we are to harvest.
There was a time when I’d still dream,
but now I know what dreams were made for:
to create all things worth saying goodbye to.
And I tremble at the thought of sleep
when it seeks my surrender, and I dare dream no more,
lest I lose myself too at a fleeting blink of an eye.
This post received a 4.4% upvote from @randowhale thanks to @carry0n! For more information, click here!
Like your poetry, im still learn how to make a good poetry with english language, very limit words that i know to make a some poetry :')
Beautiful, Nice work.
where ya at again? :o