But I never left that dream.
Though farther and farther I try to sail,
I only remove further from my heart,
Calling that which cannot be forgotten.
And I argue it, “No! No, be quenched!”
An arctic stone insuperably burning through
My chest, trembling below the mantle,
Aflame in desire; cold in defeat.
But that dream never left me,
Though I try to push it away,
Its melody still rolls in my head
So sweet, so bright, so inescapable.
Is it a self-inflicted tease,
Too imaginative to ever take its white form?
Is it a ghost that whispers so soft
The bitter sensation of gentle love clouds?
Either direction I try to pull,
It constricts stronger and more warmly;
Let me keep this tender dream,
And grow to watch it bloom in dreams...