Vivid images strike my mind;
My own dream or,
One entering at will?
Desire to touch other minds,
Tap in at the darkest hours.
Standing, staring;
Why are you here?
No answer, only eyes.
Need of knowledge
Causes deep depressions;
One before me a dream-walker or,
My own frail mind at play?
Sparks a wish to do the same;
Weaving in and out of minds
When the shadows blanket eyes.

© 2001 Alexa Grave

Book With Rose