10 February 2013

#10 - Dreaming of Budapest

We see whose love is blind and sleep. Who knows 
What wisdom slips between these quilted sheets? 
Which glories fair, which failures or deceits 
Will tremble as the lilting zephyr blows? 
We are like ghosts; a faint disquiet grows 
And formless beasts will walk these city streets. 
We conjure from our minds such tricks and treats, 
Our fears and furies granted in repose. 
A glimpse of futures past: I can’t begin 
To understand this mind of mine, so wild! 
And still each night I let the devils in, 
Till daylight finds me, weeping like a child. 
I want so much to live without regret; 
I fear that dreamless sleep eludes me yet.

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