Where do dreams go after they die?
Or do we just conclude that they are dead?
Do they ever die or do they simply lie?
Somewhere deep down, dormant;
Till that one day, when it’s their time.
Would you be prepared,
If they would return;
Welcome them with your
Hand stretched out
For something you once, had to let go.
Some nameless and some mass graves.
Well, how many tombstones
Bear the names of dead and gone.
Yet, not a graveyard for dreams
You would find, out in the open.
Waiting for faith to takeover
And roll the stone over.
They lie in lone tombs that lay hidden within.
The moment you believe
These dreams will rise, yet again.