My Old Book of Dreams

Burning Yearning

A thought profound

A belated sound

Embracing of the pain ethereal.

I set to flames

Those dusty lanes

The sacred perishing now I feel.

The dreams of old

stained clothes I hold

To Agni I commit and now reveal.

I burn my old book of dreams

And write them down all anew.

The pages yellowed were so full

My dreams are now but a few.

The fire burnt, and it burnt well

reflecting my soul, a drop of dew.

These ashes of the old, I oughtn’t hold

From the ashes, the phoenix, born anew.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Mixed Reality, UK

Virtual Reality and iOS App development, including a foray into the world of Fine Art Digital Photography

Jolie Laide

Amber Whitham

Rezinate's Blog

Just another WordPress.com site

rabirius

photography and other things

%d bloggers like this: