Dreamers weave passionate webs of dreams,
But only when they sleep.
Webs of every dream that ever was
Every web holds thoughts to keep.
And words and scenes play out
As if your mind were a movie theater
Some scenes are of love and happiness
While others torment and plague their creator
And sometimes you lay in a paradoxical sleep
A dark screen lies empty by your frozen feet
Lovers weave passionate webs of love,
But only when their heart�s been broken.
Webs of every smile and every kiss,
Every memory that�s been forsaken.
And every fight will remain fastened
To the emptiness of your mending heart.
Oh, how much your heart aches to be loved
But it is still shy and afraid of being torn apart
Writers weave passionate webs of words,
Every thought, emotion that runs through their mind
Is written upon blank sheets of paper, soon smudged with ink
And they write with emotions and simplicity entwined
Sometimes not caring what or who they expose
They write through their wisdom and disposition
Tearing at every little word, just to find something to write
Sheathing every memory that ever came to mind.
Home
Mourning Wolf
[Poetry]
Endless Moonlight Wandering
