Soft

Even when amongst the softest dreams
Of hope and happiness, surrounded in the
Smokey shroud of fantasies, reality can
Find a way to hit, yet it strikes like a
Snake; hard and fast, intended to kill.
Yet when the dream starts to fade away you
Do not fall, reality cannot truly strike
In sleep, we enter a world of our own where
Physics and impossible things mean nothing,
Anything goes.

The cold hearted stabs of what we have defined
As possible or not is not true in dreams,
Everything can be as we want, even things that
We do not necessarily understand or mean.
Like falling on a bed of rose petals, all
Silky and soft dreams leave us content,
At peace with ourselves, that’s why I love
Dreams they are impossible, a little
Flicker of hope that softens the harshness
Of reality.

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