Sleep Dreams

Lost in a forest of haunted memories
Conflicted, addicted to the sub stance of abuse
Daydreams, moonbeams crosshatched moments of recognition, precognition sparks
Dark days, bright nights striking figures loom into relative form
Words are written like worlds are
Hidden letters casts of spider webs silvery grays
Sleep is the riddle found to live fantasies
Lost in a forest of haunted memories



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 639 times
Written on 2018-10-29 at 14:38

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