Dreaming Poem by Houda Boukassoula

When nights had gone darker
I had never felt afraid
To my bed I went straight
Not to sleep or get some rest
It was just to be able to sink
In profound slumber and dreams
Where I could weave fanciful stories
And make hypotheses and antitheses
In order to flee my fake existence
Then I grew up to realize that
Dreamers in this world are the flowers
Blooming over a volcanic land
Dreamers are like the gentle breeze
Refreshing a hot day in summer
Amidst wars and turmoil depression
Dreams sparkle as stars over a wasteland
They nourish a desperate perception
Of the human soul in isolation
Trying to prove its signification
And fit in a world of lust and passion

Dreamers are gifted with that fascination
Able to harmonize severed parts
Between body and soul demands
In the spiritual reconciliation:
A dream waiting for realization.