deepundergroundpoetry.com
Nothing Dreamed is Meant to Be
To hold them is to miss them,
To hate them is to kiss them,
And when they dare believe in me,
Nothing dreamed is meant to be.
Specters all
Specters all
From gardens sweeter than ours
We stole such sacred flowers,
And the poison that sweetened most
Fed the heartbeat of each ghost
Whose tearstains so soft in the rain
Forced we blind to see again.
When we weep, they must not know
How these thoughts in circles grow,
But the scream from each eye
When none are strong enough to cry
I pray each crystalline to see
Nothing dreamed is meant to be.
To hate them is to kiss them,
And when they dare believe in me,
Nothing dreamed is meant to be.
Specters all
Specters all
From gardens sweeter than ours
We stole such sacred flowers,
And the poison that sweetened most
Fed the heartbeat of each ghost
Whose tearstains so soft in the rain
Forced we blind to see again.
When we weep, they must not know
How these thoughts in circles grow,
But the scream from each eye
When none are strong enough to cry
I pray each crystalline to see
Nothing dreamed is meant to be.
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