Dreams - a poem

Ishika Mitra

MAJMC Sem 2 

Pexels

My dreams are made of lilies

That bloom in the depths of the night

Under the moon and the starry skies

In the charm of the bright citylights.

 

My dreams are made of music

That soothes the soul in the dark

Every chord lights a spark

Like the songs of a passing skylark.

 

My dreams are made of memories

They bind me close to you

In the old pages, never new.

Memories by the millions, never few.

 

But, they break in the morn

Like a glass in shards

They pierce deep and sharp and hard.

They mix in my blood,

Like a rock in my heart

In the flames that’ve left me charred.