Fragile Dreams

Floating in the air
Their forms so fragile
My dreams they come
So diaphanous, so delicate
They drift gently on the
Breezes created by hope
So easily gone
In the storm
Of worthlessness
Those heavy tears that
Do fall so sharply
Prick their tender membranes
Somehow
The translucent bubbles
Bleed crimson blood
And I can taste their
Sorrow on my lips



by... Belynia Isithrandil

Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Scarlatan, in the year 351 AF.