Repeated the dream, always does it seem, hope and thus belief |
In a Field, In a Dream by Keaton Foster In a field, In a dream, There. So, it seems, So, it may be. A rose, Brightest red, Not dead, Alive, Growing wild. Man Is this child Walking alone. The path before, Quite dark. Way ahead, A future. Not so far behind, A past, Trying to escape One step at a time. All around, There are trees, Not green. All below, There is ground, Cold, lifeless, Spiteful. No path is true, No direction is fair. But then again, There, In a field, In a dream, There. So, it seems, So, it may be. A rose, Brightest red, Not dead, Alive, Like me, Like life. Still, There is a chance. Hope, Disguised As a growth When nothing Could or has ever Grown before. The closer I get, Each step, The previous darkness Is kept Where it has been, Where it should be. The pain remains, But the closer I get, The more I forget, The less I regret. Naïve is such hope, But I feel it anyway. Truth be told, In some way, Unexplained, I know. Understanding, As I go, It is because Of that rose… Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2008-2021 |