All Alone.

The air carries the ashes too,
And then there are thoughts
That carry giving up, an ending, and
They carry changes,
Of the who of  who I am,
Then there is a why, round the corner,
A life waits there in that, in that intelligence,
And the air is certain of the changes it carries
And brings it on all alone.

In my dream state I needed no external light(sun) to see all that I did in my dream. I was the light itself witnessing the dream that was me too.

My Thurst.

I lost it
To find it
A game that I indulged in

I lost it again
To find it again
Each day bought me that opportunity, and
I played it, it felt new every-time I indulged,
I liked it
I hated it
I felt it.

It had a story each time
That had to end
Before I slept every night.

I have had choices,
That helped me sleep,
I remembered mostly all my sleep.
Wanting what I wanted,
I was living them.

Voices thus spoke of,
Reflections of my mind,
The rhythm of its body, that
I am in the instinct of my desires, and
I have so much more to do.

The Gifts Of Gods.

Not only I can, you can too, see, that in night, you still can work yourself out. In abundance of moments, value of each exceeds thus in which I work these seconds of the night.
Flames burn bright and bring the past and future down, at last a weapon in my anger, my love is discovered for a morning that exerts to come to me before its time.

All moments empty, then fill themselves, if lethargy is sacrificed in the night,the wealth thus multiplies.