Had a dream but met my eyes, as light had shown me yours,
Nor reason—nor doubtful yet my very soul—could quite confound
To tell apart,
Which dream,
Held closer to my heart,
Was any less than living.

No angels sang or flowers bloomed
As voiceless heaven so consumed,
Such sight and sound which is the ruse,
Too such a face as yours.

Such beauty is but the dream of Dreams;
To live in the shadow
Of an everlasting illusion,
Is but a shallow death.
A lifetime lived in but one breath
Is as to die,
One second,
In your arms.

Live you, as I,
To dreams we’d cast away.
A dream may you call your home
To which I may,
Never wake again.

Response to Daily Prompt:

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