Here's a stranger poem of mine.


Unwritten thoughts,
and unspoken words,
there are so many songs unsung.
What does it mean?

Alone inside there's a glass cage,
our only way out,
our words, our songs,
_our_selves_.

But glass cuts,
you'd better watch out,
or it'll leave you,
lying in your own blood.

I hope it hurts,
I hope it stings,
The bars are shattered,
but your body is broken.

-Dream

Penned by my hand on the 25th of Chronos, in the year 242 AF.