Poetry / archive
Unnamed
When the night is still and the stars are bright,
And the world is quiet in the silver moonlight.
When the only sound heard is the murmur of my heart,
And of the tempest in my mind brewing, unsought.
Stay quiet, O heart, your hopes are but smoke,
Lie still O mind, your dreams are without hope.
Scatter your thoughts, in the depths of the night,
When the world lies still, sleeping before daylight.
Life is a thing of beauty, close yet beyond reach,
Love is joy, with pain bound to it like a leech.
The world is but a figment of the mind,
In spite all your effort, it is never kind.
Dreams are but dreams, that to fruition, never grow,
Hopes are a drowning mind's attempts, to stop time's flow.