The Beauty Of Dreams
“The future belongs to those who believe in the
beauty of their dreams”- Eleanor Roosevelt
The turning wheels of time
stir up the dust of disarray, past and present,
that settles in the crumbling cauldron
of the disordered life of dire confusion.
In the moments of disdained dejection,
the truth tumbles in the mélange
of disorientation chaos, intimidating the future.
Under the gloomy firmament of delusion
the mental acuity lost in desperate frustration,
searches for a novel niche
within the self-stimulating imagination
to design from the debris of discontent
a spellbound shelter for the future.
If the dormant notion then invents dreams,
they steer the mind into the distant domain in time,
making the frame of timeless trance,
where the dreamer assembles relentlessly
the shifting scenes of the collage framed by success.
From beneath the current flood of despair,
a verdant mindscape emerges with time,
attaches dreams to the unanchored psyche
to shape the future of content.
As the rising sun promises a burst of colors
on the calm canopy of hope with golden beams,
sanguinity sparkles with the spectrum of splendor
for the beautiful dreams to embellish the future
to perform the kaleidoscopic show of delight.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
