Hopeless Dreams

[exotic ledge]

***My eyelids cannot seem to shut.
The complexion of the mind is white
With skull bones,
I try to make a smile --
Under the table lamp to see if the stars

Won't disapprove my bald heart.
I glue the petals on the orchids
But I remain in this dream
Where dead birds don't turn into ashes,
I crashed into a brick wall.

And not a single light can shine
Through this waterfall.
Even though I'm dreaming
It doesn't feel like a dream,
It just feels like a mundane routine

That we obtain from birth.
I wake up to the moon
On a starry night,
My faith chases me through --
The speed of light.

The green stars shouldn't
Worry about me --
But more so, I should worry
About myself.
I wrap myself up in this white orchid;

Close shut with no shriek.
The only thing left inside is a dim light.
Maybe sleeping can patch
This black doorway --
I remain still as a snail

And fearless without a single wail.
I would make a hole in the orchid
To peep through the outside world.
Then, as I look, I see a world
Filled with unlidded houses.***

Hopeless Dreams

@cursive sierra

@plain steppe

@rough pagoda

@delicate lance

@tranquil glen

@neon veldt

@dire ravine

@ancient hollow

@near walrus

@jovial zenith

@glossy rivet

@hoary shoal

@heavy ridge

@floral rose

@fallen thorn

@drifting bear

@sonic vapor

@wanton atlas

@tawdry skiff

[heavy ridge]

I just have so no words for any of your poems, it's so good, so well thought off, so well written, each theme as gorgeous and meaningfull as the other just perfection

[exotic ledge]

@spare elm

@young fossil

@lost timber

@serene cloud

[brisk spire]

this is beautiful

[exotic ledge]

ty

[warped sable]

There really are no words to describe this artistic masterpiece. “Hopeless Dreams”, a dream indeed. And what a profound meaning behind this poem. It’s one of those that would be studied in a college class, no doubt.

[exotic ledge]

@vagrant escarp

[wanton atlas]

This is amazing Vindi! I like this one a lot
I like the 3rd and 4th stanzas!

[drifting bear]

I glue the petals on the orchids
But I remain in this dream
Where dead birds don't turn into ashes,
I crashed into a brick wall.
The idea of ​​gluing petals to orchids, as if it were possible to fix what is already broken, is very striking. But what really sticks is this image of "dead birds that don't turn into ashes" – it's as if time has stopped, everything has become stuck, with no chance of change or rebirth.
i like it a lot