Resting within, sleeping in me
A touch of awe
Midnight call of hope
Storyteller’s ghosts vanishing in dawn
We are but the shadows in this world
Story reads us real
Every memory we hold dear
We are but the dreams of silent awe
Nightingales and crows
For a child in me to dream
Doves and owls
For a heart in me to love
Swansong within still flows
For me to believe and hope
We are but the shadows of reality
Mist of lust, everlasting agony
We are but the shadows unwithered in time
Awaiting for our own undone lullaby
Unheard story longs for a reader
Untouched dream searching for a dreamer
Slowly withers in time for a lust unhad
We are the shadows remaining still
In the dawning sundown dream
We are the petals, lost cradles now withering
Memories of a fantasy and awe
Candle in the night to bear the hope
Across the sea sweet music box melody still flows
Dreams and tales for one wish undone
Ghosts of my past in dark mirrors of time
I am but a shadow of my own world
Dream never gone, silence of echo
Innocence unbound within every sound of fading piano
You are but a shadow of your own world
Lust within purity of soul
Childish laugh within old man’s tear
You are my dearest love dream real
Linlin's Poetry 