I see a scene
Of thousand dreams
Of shattered skies,
dead butterflies.
Broken glass is drawing blood
on feet stained by years of mud
Faces stained red by tears
Eyes go dark, veiled by tears.
Hearts will clench in iron fists
Swallowed by the blackened mists
Dreams will live and dreams will die
In this deathly lullaby.


  1. This is such a vivid poem. Its great Bianka.

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