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Dreams
poetry
Dreams, are but fleeting visions of desires that will never be.
Just as the passing beauty of a rose does not last.
So, to many dreams bloom and wither in naught but a mere moment.
Born and killed within the confines of blissful sleep.
But to dream for all eternity, never to know the waking to a harsh reality....
Would that I could sleep forever.





Ghost Storm17
Community Member
Ghost Storm17
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  • 11/09/08 to 11/02/08 (1)
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