In my dreams,
I fall,
Through icy blue clear sky,
And pure virginal white clouds,
Whispering across this fragile earth,
To wash my life free from sin,
Plaid fields below,
Open their arms to me,
In golden tones of seasons change,
Before me passes,
The life I once lived,
Actions of the man that used to be,
And the boy who dreamed of more,
Imaginings crushed and life to be realised,
Excited by the passing years,
No fear of what they bring
Innocent of life’s indiscretions,
To become a different man,
A life wasted in mock and jest,
Who indulged his passions,
Forsaking himself,
Unforgiving, but unashamed,
Morality once lived by,
Lost and forgotten in the rejection of a dusty corner,
In the place which holds his heart,
One that now howls in the midnight hour with children’s laughter, In the dark of the coldest nights,
But then faces flash,
Some remembered,
Some unnamed,
Like the warrior‘s of the past,
Some lost in the haze of frolics,
As most of life,
But lives touch in some degree,
As this chilled wind passes,
For once a feeling of being alive,
Rushes through every fibre of this spent body,
Lifeless and eyes rolled back, Drifting back to lives past,
Growing up in mass produced housing, White and plastic,
Screaming in stark out of place sixties modernism, Each block a carbon of the last,
Through terraced fifties concrete hell,
To a time of wife and babies,
To make me whole once more,
And to finally mans best friend,
In mahogany and white,
A face of child like innocents,
Never to cheat or roams without me,
Who chases bad dreams away,
And as this earth rushes to greet me,
My life abandoned,
And fate accepted,
All sins forgotten,
And wiped clean slate of grey,
I softly land in warm arms,
Soft and gentle as stacked October leaves,
I wake,
And remember not,
Of this life lived sad,
And with regret,
To fall once more,
In the next nights dreaming.


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