August 22, 2005

The years drift by in muffled silence,
Sweetly resting in the comfort of the fog.
No need to hurry, melodies form in the wind;
Happily, we scurry, hearts dimmed, quickening of the rhyme.

Imaginings of chaos fill the voids,
Mind meanders, wanders; ever quenching the joys.
Dreaming of dreamers, playing with toys;
Nibbling anxiety, numbed always by the noise.

The dream lives forever, the dream without end;
When awakened from slumber, the dream closes in.
A quest for more fearfulness replaces the din;
Ever drifting, ever wandering, ever dreaming within.

The fears of the darkness, and critters and flame,
Hold not a candle to the fear without name.
The fear that's elusive, the fear born of shame;
Oh, wonderful sweet killing fear of the blame.

So, onward we dance, in the sweetness of bliss;
Ignorant joy, pleasant dream, all that remains.
Until, at long last, the dream is pushed aside;
A look in the mirror and today begins the ride

Type: Poetry

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