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I dreamed I brought flowers to the stars,
And swore the wilting was not ours.
A dream I thought we held in unison—
Belief! Alas! belief: my only sin.

In my dream were the words we never say,
Though we hear them, and the luster they portray.
The phantom of myself saw your solidity
And in my dream, I felt your absence next to me.

I see death in my dream, and the sorrow of my heart
As your ships o’er starless seas sadly depart.
In my dream, I knew that love was dead
By the parting words that we, embracing said.

In my dream, I said what you have meant to me,
To a form that my eyes have refused to see.
In my dream, I never told a lie—
We were one unto the day that we would die.

In my dream I hoped one day would come true,
My soul would find a home somewhere inside of you.
In my dream, there never would be pain,
The sun would shine, and flowers grow again.

I dreamed my mind was something I did not fear,
As you said the words I long refused to hear.
It was a dream of the damnèd and the blessed:
It was a dream of the ruin in my breast.

I dreamed I brought flowers to the stars,
In a godless sky of scars.
A dream I prayed we one day would share
And now I rest to hide from my own despair.

In my dream…in my dream…I died
With no-one at my side.
But in my dream, there was no oblivion:
There were the flowers in the rising sun.

© 2021 Marten Hoyle