Poetry

I had a dream

I had a dream,
in the broken,
cold-blooded world.
About a world without cracks.
Where the laughter of limitless dreamers
resonates and becomes the sound
which breaks down into countless keys.

A dream of a world where integrity
runs in people’s hands,
and it doesn’t run in the bloody rivers of immorality.
A world where we didn’t kneel
before those who don’t accept us
the way we are
and they want to change the essence
by which we stand out.
Where glass hands don’t have
to hold unnecessary burdens,
but they can break,
freely and with ease.

Cold sand welcomes
my cold feet
and my thoughts wander through hopelessness,
while the wind plays with my burnt gray shadows,
obstructing my wounds,
bringing me long-lasting memories,
some distant reminiscences.

I had a dream of hovering
above my body
in a torn world
with incomplete people.
Just as the screams of fear tear the bones,
while hungry eyes swallow the void,
shattered future peeks
through broken windows.
Just as civilization lies confused at the feet of their creators,
that’s how I lie too and dream
about the infinity of human perseverance.

Left at mercy and ruthlessness to the higher forces
which lurk me and mix me in their
complicated crossword puzzle.
To fit in somewhere,
to be connected to something.
Another given, yet stolen and inverted
part of the psychological structure,
but necessary.

Collecting blades which missed me,
I compose myself in another concept.
Faking the moment of my death
in an unknown form of astral projection,
I go back to myself.
Slowly, but surely.

I dream.
Patching pieces of grief
over layers of torn skin,
I forget to make knots of happiness.
In a country of blueprints and plans,
I search for the belonging that once belonged to me.

I had a dream in a paranoid world
of forgotten ideals.
About a place that follows the exuberance of humanity,
about a country that didn’t limit people within invisible borders,
about the land where the angels came down from heaven,
and haven’t taken on the forms of bad demons
and demanded our souls.

Out of the agony of the sinless,
with dug up souls,
wrapped in the veil of unspeakable crimes
and bullets that pierce humanity,
I had a dream from a broken world.
From broken eyes with occasional abrupt dreams.
From the heart that waited,
holding its breath to inhale life.

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