You came to me again last night
As you have for years,
Stealing into my dreams,
Stirring my heart and my blood
With longings for things
I've never known.
Who are you?
I ask again and again,
Why do you haunt me so?
Are you someone I've met?
Someone I've yet to meet?
From the cruelest of tender sleeps
I awake
To find myself alone once more
And I want to weep;
Go away!
No! Stay!
Be real to me
And let me know you
As you seem to know me
So well.
I've been able to interpret my dreams - correctly or incorrectly, but sufficiently to handle the ones that I find most disturbing. There is an incredible longing in this poem. May one day you find your dreams fulfilled and may they meet your expectations.
Born of their seeds, kingdom will rise against kingdom, one will hold great mysteries, one will turn the tide and one will not be bound. War is fought, not only on the field but also within the mind. Nothing is what it seems take nothing for granted.
The first publised in a exciting series of books set in a world where Magic is scoffed at in some Kingdoms, but it is the driving force behind the power of the crown in others. In fact, the very choice of who wears the crown of Westfeld is made by t
The first instalment of The Tales of Bowen unfolds a mesmerizing anthology of narratives intricately woven together by a grand overarching storyline, set against the enchanting backdrop of the mystical realms of Dagonfell.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
God bles you. Kathy
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.