From the Pocket of a Dream
Only one glance into the mind is not enough to distinguish
the supremacy of a single thought.
Like a bird the thought can fly through the sky
Wet of all the tears falling from clouds
in the futile craving for something unreal.
Wild of all the spooky screams in its dark night
scared by a cry that could cut the silence in one split second
but then, suddenly disappears into the moment of no return.
When the scream is gone, the thought remains.
© Eclipse 2008 – 2011