In the umbra of those dark clouds
I slept so long for years,
But couldn’t find
A dream to dream
A sin to sin
To fill my eyes with promises,
My heart with mirth
And one day I discovered,
Dreams cannot be dreamt
They live inside;
Like a yellow painted butterfly
Lives inside a caterpillar,
Green like moss
Dreams and sins
Are so strong and vacuous
Gravity overrules itself
When they play
But why is this clichéd
That dreams take you higher
And sins submerge you in despair
Some dream of sinning
Some sin for their dreams
So were does the difference lie?
I am here to dream
I am here to sin…
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