Soft dreams

Disappointment's cold rain in drops of pain wet my way

They stain not cleanse washing vision from my eyes

Soft fog of dreams oh how I wished their visions would stay

All shadows of darkness' disguise, fill mind with flies of lies

Soft gloss like floss grows over trees in moss

Where darkness grows and a gentle breeze blows

Molten thoughts pour, refined, separated from dross

Casting walls of iron where the door to reality does close 

Locked in an iron room with  windows glued shut and no way out

No one can hear your screams, they come in a silent shout

Sealed inside on the back of night to ride in a sea of present and past

To drift away till the break of day, cradled in a womb of dreams cast

Reviews

[RomaJ]

Soren, this poem is haunting and beautifully layered. I love how you capture the weight of disappointment and the sense of confinement, yet offer the dreams as a fragile, almost sacred refuge. The imagery is vivid--from rain-streaked pain to molten thoughts and the iron-bound room--making the reader feel both trapped and cradled at once. A striking meditation on how we navigate pain and seek solace in the imagination.

[Soren]

Thank you Roma you have encapsulated the essence of this poem in your review and that is most appreciated.