Dream
This dream that human cherish so much
as the night cherish the stars,
yet it is all but vanity.
Flocks of people upon the flattered twin
that enormously opened, lead to hell.
As the days chameleon to nights
each person moves to his grave.
Devoid of contentment wrapped reality
the pure land, having angels in pure white:
a little drifting therein.
Death: impetus that reminds of the real home,
yet the lost ones within take it as just play.
whereas the tiny thread only function once.
Unless eyes be opened in the real world
so that they will know, here is all a dream.
Copyright © Afolabi Muideen | Year Posted 2015
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