The night of dream.
The passing of the moon
The closing of the eyelids
The sound of the silent sleep
As beautiful as a rising sun.
The whispering wind breeze
As cold as the forest of conifers
Under the twilight's presence
Hearing the noise of the night's pace.
Beneath the scattered stars
Trying to understand its halos
Connecting a variety of bright beauties
Found itself amazed by its discovery.
In the garden of white roses
Watching the clouds cover the moon
Decoding the imaginable reality
Young beauty and kindness, there is still sadness.
Felt its aroma from far
The field of lavenders in bloom
While slowly covered by fog's mist
Slowly disappearing in the eye's presence.
Sitting beside the icy window
Overlooking the nice view
Of a person sitting under the mistletoe
Realizing that it's a memory of you.
A dream that was never true
A fantasy that went trough
Like a thorough movie script
On a lovely night like deja vu.
