Monday, May 7, 2012

Misty Dreams

The matters by which we are all judged,
Have reduced each of us down to black sludge.
We can't think above the clouds, we are loath
To admit something's wrong with all our lauds
of praise, honor, and glory; but we do
Think that it's others that get in the way
Of what I want. For I want it today!
And that thing I want, its own story
May yet become a true tale to be told;
Where I am the heroine, great and bold!
Yet hidden underneath what is this maid
But a girl whose sad and cold dreams are played
With in the light reflected from above?
What am I without my family, my love?

                            Misty Dreams, (c) Luke Bennette, May 2012

No comments:

Post a Comment