Monday, May 16, 2011

wealthy.


If dreams be all I have and love, then I am truly rich.
Can they be held within these arms of mine?
Or will I sink in quicksand, or rot within the ditch?
Awaiting for that outstretched hand, or a saving vine.
A line is all I ask of you, I feel our dream has died
And living only as I sleep, then death will be my wake.
My cries! My cries all but ignored, though weary I have tried
Am I alone? Can no one see and lay a hand to take?
In stillness I recall a time when heaven fell on earth
And in these arms and with these lips, love sealed within My Kiss
Now with these eyes I wait to see me rise up from this hell
A dream that just will not let go. The dream that you will miss!

As one who seeks some treasure, now holds to something new;
The dream in me is yet alive, though it has died in you.

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