I am that dream which you
have left behind since you
thought some dreams are
I didn't spin dreams before I met you;
but those proved false and illusions too.
I wondered if life has a story to share...
Something fairy-tale-like: precious and rare.
Screams of those dismantled bodies
are now resting in silence, the water of
the river has washed the blood and the
dreams of those men who declared
two birds left me clues
about life and laughter
a tiny wriggling worm
mystic or just my presence
in this world of life
once there were powers within
Will the honey bees know that I have
destroyed their hive to suck the sweet liquid?
Few would come back to see the hive gone,
I need the wind to tell me that
the meeting can never happen
I miss the wind