women of my dreams

Women of my dreams,
thou eyes shine less, flicker more,
Your hands, graceful, yes,
And yet, conceal, so many cuts,
You sing me to sleep,
but that sweet lullaby of nothingness and everythingness,
whose tale does it echoes of?
No purple monsters in your life,are there?
No wings of freedom, restrained by misery or agonies?
Women of my dreams,
you don’t suffer too, right?
you aren’t your muse, no right?
please do not be,
confined and orthodox,
you don’t have a million of faces and facades,
you can’t have,
is your world beyond what beyond is?
with no fears,
no forebodings,
alright?

Women of my dreams,
there’s no sorcery,
or is there?
fades away like ashes,
do you have similar sinister memories,
is there some alienation you feel perhaps,
there’s nothing to hide?
nothing to moan for?
nothing to mourn for?
right?

Women of my dreams,
You are not real,
Right?

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