(no subject)
There's this line between whats real and what dreams turn out. In sleep we walk through the possibilities we missed, the private dying embers of a once heated fire, a passionate love affair forgotten in the movement of time. In dreams the workings of an inner demon so fierce , so scathing, this demon writhes inside the sleep you hold so dear. It ransoms your heart, holding hostage memories you no longer want to need. With age comes the wisdom that some day memories may truly be all you have. Memories are the last thing binding us to ourselves before the sleep ceases to end. And you ask the dream maker to tell you which is more important your heart or your head? Your memories or your heart, your kindness your love. The dreammaker replies with darkness and leaves you there to ponder. There is pain in those memories and there is poison in those thoughts. You step back . You realize without your memories your heart is useless. The demon keeps your heart . Memories are what you needed to make it through and here the demon lay wait in dreams reminding you of promises made with a boys mind and a lustful heart. You cannot escape the demons you create.