Dreamer's Riddle

Old man is dreamer, old are his dreams
As he dreams unto Ancient Eternity.
Playthings in his dreams, we all are…
Wish he dreamt what I wished to see…

And we are still those children, huddled on wood steps,
Still in our schoolthings,making paper men.
Every time was abandoned, one of my misshaped men,
It would, somehow find its way into your smallest pocket.

And so old Man,Dreamer,dreams of my enchanted story,
And I know,it only mocks my trance,when it distances me.
From you…

Long summerday,in prismatic light of a window pane,
Like a kaleidoscope,the scene would change,
Someone else radiates the glow of your smile,
As I see with a pang,you found a new friend.

In the turbulence of the evening storm,
The vase you had given me,shattered to the floor.
I cried to sleep,myself in my bed.
I cry for Old Man to be finally awake.

Old Man is cruel,he laughs in his sleep,
Old Man,of old dreams,smirks at me…
Through you...
The Dawn is here,bringing strains of your whistle,
With it and it’s the song we used to sing.
When I closed my eyes to sleep to death…
The sound I heard last was the woodsteps creak.

I know not,when the door opened wide.
Nor when Old Man woke up and died,
I hardly heard the curtains being drawn,
Or felt the horizons whisk past me,across oceans.

Night again,is when I open my eyes and see,
I am again,looking through yours,down at me…
As you…

Walk...Away...

Blue desert's empty threat,
Softness against emptiness,
Take my soul and lead the way,
Raise me from the dust of grave.

The fearful tonight chants for the rain,
For fear of what their sins have made.
My feet are feminine,ethereal even,
They leave no trace upon the gravel.

I come home,to walk away,
   Bolt the locks,keep the curtains raised.
So I can still see your face
Do not try to reach me unless...

I whisper inside your head.

Flower in the desert I was then,
When they made me forsaken.
Now I prowl by night that prays
For deliverance from my sway.

Everything is changing,inside of me,
A brutal beast,forever thirsty.
Guilt weeps alone silently,
As I savour the new strength in me.

I come home,to walk away,
Watch me fade slowly away,
Evanescent,like the tongue of a flame,
Vanishing from the all photoframes,
I come home,to walk away
Extinguishing lights of the midnight train.

I'm coming home,to walk away,
Bolt the locks,keep the curtains raised.

Do not try to reach me unless,

I whisper inside your head...

Wishing Coin

Driven by whispers,
Into the darkness,
Onto the highway,
Where our ego rests.
Snakes slither by,
We little heed.
Glassy-eyed,
Blinded by the speed.
Clambering nomads,
We find hard to breathe.
Ruthless wind,
Blows past our breed.
And then the melancholy
Cry of the night!
Cut short by ours,
Less than a minute.
Our eyes now wide,
The glass shattered
By resonance!
That face, that plight
Would haunt us,
For vengeance.

A reindeer crossing the highway,
Poor helpless thing has crossed over to Death’s sway.
Blood on the metal, blood on the windshield.
Blood everywhere….everywhere but the highway…
And the wheels.

The reindeer, was it flying to us from some Pole?
What was it bringing us?
Had we not bereaved its body of its soul?