Keeper of the Dreams
She dragged herself to the corner of the room; today she was a little shy. Her fire was true as sun; there wasnâ€™t a speck of lie. But today, today she will not smile, neither will she cry. The ardor has slowly been annihilated and her throat too dry. The moon went up and down it came, And between those were the countless moments of near pyrophoricity. Betwixt changing her sides she missed the home, Being, longings and belongingness, that were her own. Frights, some she carried and others were wishes. To see the snow caps, the river and rainbow fishes. To walk down the galleries of halls now so old, Where the flora thrives and the tales are told. She would plunge into books and run through reams. And you ask me what do I want to do? I want to be keeper of her dreams.