In this, my most silent reverie
The echo of a bladed hand calls to me
Over hills of light blinded to the eye of dreams
Lies a needle pressed flesh-deep into the core of me
In this most violent storm wrought sea
Those long sought dragons lie peacefully
It's a world of dances and empty hands
Through cloud shadows passed and returned again
It's the struggle of ghosts against their own translucence
In a land where reality is second to illusion
In her last moments, still breathing
The remainder of her ashen lips still beckons me
Through flames, heat waves a farewell scene
And wraps smoky fingers around my larynx
In the calming of a weary sea
Those long forgotten dragons rouse from their sleep
It's an ancient memory, lest we forget
Where the sun crashed hard and burnt our skin
Where the apparitions faded into predawn trysts
And the affairs of reality were bound to be swallowed by mist
In this, my most silent reverie
Where the echoes of old have forgotten me
Where the remainder of my ashes float gently
Amongst the ice-quiet fingers of an aging sea
To the calm waves of our depths
To the cold haze of our deaths
Those who longed to be dragons stare accusingly
At the first born who stole their dreams.
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