Love is a Dream

Love is a dream, but a few never wake.

At worst, a tragedy; at best, mistake.

Many lonely souls await this death,

Yet cling to their final breath

 

In fear that what lies on the other side

Might cause the dead to rise

With cruel vengeance and mighty swords

And declare themselves lords

 

Of their minds and their hearts

When the bleeding starts.

Oh, how alive they ought to feel

Once they find something so real

 

That they could die in the mystery

of their blissful misery.

 

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