Miserable Dream

I had one of those dreams last night;

One where the wind sings a song made just for us.

We danced 'til the act was unbearable,

And wore smiles til they were unwearable;

Our pitiful, melancholy groove,

Died out like fire with no wood,

Ignited, though silently it stood.

I hate you and you do, too,

Except your hate is towards me.

We fake it, we take it.

Cruel acts and the like.

But closely observe,

For no longer can this burden unfold.

We unravel like loose braids,

Yet weaved so tight, for even bare hands could not seperate those two,

Both me and you.

A vision,

Fuzzy, dusty, torn.

It's view is yet fading, though bright colors form.

As I toss and turn, my heart still aches;

Yet I'm hoping that I'll never wake.

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