Dream On

*Read this slowly, it is supposed to be melancholic.

Life is meant to be a dream, skating on soft, white ice,
Enjoying while eyes and fins and razors peer through the dark water beneath,
Pulsing and whispering seduction.
Dreams fall like wingless birds from the sky,
And when we die, the ice breaks, and we wake up for the first time,
Joining the monsters that take us into their arms, in hell......


I dream of a plain of ice, i feel the presence of " Ice"
or maybe it's just the wind.
Brushing against my hand,
Like a delicate flower.

I hear a voice, an echoing voice,
Crushing, Engulfing......
Resonating into the distance,
Just like thunder.

It was the death call,
Resounding into the distance.
On that plain of Ice, i Die.

Hell is a big place, a cold place,
And it stretches as much as miles, and maybe more.
I will go to the throne of Lucifer himself,
and demand to be given back what is mine,
My life.....

Heaven is a small place, warm and comfortable,
But it stretches in moments not so much as miles, and maybe less.
I doubt God himself has a place for me.

So where should i go?
Dreaming on............endlessly...


This may be the last post, maybe not, i don't know. Enjoy.