The Wings of Dreams

Flying through my dreams,
I visit times,of fond dimes and lost chimes.

Ever when I wonder where my life has flown by,
I close my eyes and ask my dreams for the wings to fly.

There were some innocent blunders,some beautiful fights,
Some lost advices,some bleak and dreary nights.

Should I count the years gone by,
There were few in which my heart didn`t cry.
I relieve days spent with lost friends and ancient games,
I feel the erstwhile pain of the bicycle falls and fear of the future fails.

I forget the sanctions of life and time,
As I rout my insecurities and sweeten the brine.

Recounting vague memories make them larger than life,
In some I am the best there is,in some I walk on edge of knife.

Time when smile was sweeter than honey,
Place where care was important than car and money,
I dream of small moments and fleeting success,
I look for a new me sans books and with a rucksack.

There in those pits of my memories I come across my angels and demons,
There my heart sinks,my brain is wowed but my worries are buried in caverns.

Nostalgia hits me hard when I wake up from my reverie,
Still my senses in fool`s paradise,amongst dear coterie.

Wings of dreams are better than life,
There possibility is endless,miracle is rife.
They say to act is great,to dream is to squander,
But ask someone who relieves a lost moment,reclaims a lost wonder.

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