She comes in through the door filled with fabulous words
Her charms are not exactly what they may seem,
Tho' she banter and blush, is she?
Or simply a shadow in the soft, summer breeze...

He stared at her image for what seemed like days
Full of desire, he was soon flush with flames,
Needing her more than he knew what to do with
Surely, a friend would not lie or deceive, would she?

Seasons come and seasons go
Or at least we are told they follow an order,
Of some sort, set in motion by the ancients
Meekly, we listen and obey...

But what if, what was real
never really existed?
But rather a dream on the inside,
How many would choose slumber?
When they ultimately discovered
Reality is no more or no less
Than what you allow yourself
to perceive and recieve ...

09/17/2006

Posted on 11/29/2006
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