A Writer of Dreams
By Tyre
Darkened clouds blanket deep into the night As dream covered eyes are made blind Wars are not fought on battlefields of turf But rather in the battlefields of the mind Solitude sweeps a heart unto despair When a hand reaches out to no one there Yet loneliness lurks not at being alone But from crowds brewed without a care I have fought in the battlefields of life Having nothing but sorrows and pains Through the years I had welcomed death Yet my soul in this life still remains In writing dreams I comfort the nights For dreams bring hope for another day To reach out against the lonely crowds Who may never allow the solace to stay Death comes slowly upon solitude's door As memories survive in midnight screams In the battlefields of life I continue to fight To keep reaching out as a writer of dreams Written September 21st, 2001 © on Sep 21 2001 01:58 PM PST 18 • 0 • 10
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"Darkened clouds blanket deep into the night..."