Dreams

The shadows get darker as the moon now dims
the chill on my spine from the slow moving wind.
The world passes by at a quite unusual pace
walking through the shadows I see a familiar face.
Stopping where it stands and turning as if to speak
the figure suddenly falls, knocked off its feet.
I rush to help this being in need
come to find it is the soul of me.
As I stand watching my helpless soul die
I do nothing more except start to cry.
My soul then says "Stop! Now look at my face!"
"You can't find love is this deranged place!"
The sound of an alarm made me jump out of fear
for the vision I had was a dream that seemed too clear.
But as I recall from it dreams do not hold love
It is found from the passing world above.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741