What happens to dreams you don't remember?

In slumber so sweet do good things come 

Where we as wishers live a lie

But in our sleep we dream to keep

Our memories until they seep 

But once we wake how they awry

like once said, they were a lie


They travel to a sacred place, a place of talismanic thoughts

And there they shrivel into crumpling clots

Once used and admired is now dead and fired

Soon you forget never to remember

Making them suffer, suffer through a cold December.





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