Dreams of a Child

I can barely look upon what I was yesterday or years ago
though I believed by angels the pretty masks were worn
and I’d entertain them with poems to imitate their beauty
yet I was never any of them, not light, not even shadows
just a child’s dream, we adults are but dreams of a child

neither the dusk nor the rosy dawn nor the ghost was I
yet so many lies have filled my heart and feeble mind
I told myself in smiles that betrayed a true lover’s kind,
wiles more cunning than the rising and the falling stars,
identity more consistent than a sun’s eternal repertoire,
making me feel like being alive was half a lonely rhyme

soon will be the day of judgment and my kingdom come
a turning of the tide will arise against my makeshift home
to fall as the walls of towers in the great Flood’s storm
for the wild storm is my heart and soul writhing in pain
trying to pour Love into dreams too imaginary to contain.

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