My bed is a grave
This bed is a grave
It sets ablaze the moonbeams above
Candlelight betrays false illusions
Demons grabbing my nimble feet
I sink and swim
Amid the waves of my dreamscapes
Hoping to chase those skeletons away
My green-cycle has been put on a halt
Fairies by way of galaxies
I’ve longed for green horizons
Spread across my stars
Painting the sky blackest glory
My brush has gnarled around my tip
I cannot fathom
And my bed is a grave
Those spirits inhabit
Ghosts, my precious friends
Of the past
Relived, found again
Never to leave me
They warm the sheets
With their pains and sorrows
But I need to be coddled
Wrapped in the arms of a lover
To chase my demons away
My bed is a grave
It has tombs not spoken
But whisper curves of healing
And yet dearie, I don’t smile
I smirk for this crazy life
That has blinked multitudes at me
Foreign occupations within my body
A war of emotions
Giving to way to my optimistic-pessimism
So you see sweetie, I am not dreary
But the dead must show the way of how to live
To grapple for you
Wishing to swim out of the abyss
Living is the greatest tonic
To go where eagles dare
And come unscathed
To wish and dream under the stars
But until then...
My bed is a grave.
