Poetry of Dreams

In the quiet realm where darkness reigns,

A world unfurls, where thoughts break their chains.

In the deepest crevices of the mind,

Dreams of myriad kinds we often find.

They dance like fireflies, elusive, bright,

In the velvet night, they take their flight.

In slumber's tender grasp, we're free to roam,

Exploring realms that feel like home.

Dreams, the echoes of our inner song,

Where we right our woes, and redress the wrong.

In these phantasmal lands, we're wild and free,

Living lives untethered, boundless, and carefree.

In dreams, the past and future intertwine,

A tapestry of time, woven so fine.

Yet, are they but illusions, whispers of the soul,

Or windows to the truths that make us whole?

They're the canvases where our fears unfurl,

Or the playgrounds where the heart can twirl.

They paint the sky with colors unseen,

In the enigmatic theater of the dream.

But when the dawn's first light does gleam,

We wake from the world of the dream.

Though we return to the realm of day,

In our hearts, the dreamscape forever stays.

Dreams, those whispered secrets of the night,

Where imagination takes its glorious flight.

In their embrace, we find our inner seams,

A treasure chest of hopes and endless dreams.