I strolled upon a smooth ocean,
Where stars and shadows both concurred,
The moon would murmur, delicate and brilliant,
A mysterious just visionaries may.
Underneath the waves, the tones drained,
Concealed underneath my floating head —
A nursery blossomed with voices lost,
The petals dark, the roots were ice.
I went after words I was unable to talk,
The air was thick, the quietness depressing,
Furthermore, in obscurity, the world untold
Unwound slow and uncontrolled.
A temporary grin, a cry, a tear —
Bad dreams like birds that vanish,
Their quills stained in shades of fear,
They circumnavigated close, then flew ahead.
However, dreams, they change with each step,
The temporary string, the breath we kept —
From heaven to dull depression,
We wake, uncertain what we left there.
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