I used to sleep, with my dreams awake and alive
And wake up to my dreams, sleeping or dead..
I wondered if that meant I was dead but alive
My inspiration disappeared into the air of lost dreams and nightmares,
the air I used to breathe.. Especially at night..
When Demons tempts and the devil dares...
My body creeps but my soul stares.. A stream of tears and clothing I couldn't tear
I broke free..from self-imposed chains #Fears
YOU ARE READING
Poetry is the TRUTH that tell's Art's lies, which in turn is the LIE that tells the TRUTH.. pieces of you and me relates to the romantic world, the ups and downs, and the expressions the could not come to the surface in the heat.