One by one my silhouetted dreams refuse to open up their wings, when the cynical night paints me all dark in the shades of gory silence. In the stillness of quietude the wailing of my dreams are guffawed by each falling sand from the hands of eternity. The night refuses to pass until my heart turns to a place where I can holocaust all my dreams and wishes.
No it does not hurt anymore and neither do my dreams thrive to live on. Each new dream that my eyes see in the broad day light is fated to die this way every night, still each new dream takes birth in my eyes ignorant of this horrific fate.
Thousands of dreams I holocaust every night at the feet of my destiny. Will being blind save my dreams? Will bereavement turn me into a lesser sinner?
Oh night! I hate you night!
You have made me a Nazi of my own dreams under the covers of this cobwebbed audible silence.
Oh night! I hate you night!
You have made me a Nazi of my own dreams under the covers of this cobwebbed audible silence.
~~~***~~~
