Archive for dream

The Dream

Posted in Happy Poems, Hopeful Poems, Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , on September 10, 2013 by Myra's Circle

One day

I had a dream

of beauty

And sadness

Of hope

and of love.

One day

I had a dream

of reminders

of the past.

Twas a dream of a dream

not much more,

won’t add to much

only actions

Only words.

Words that will destroy

so many ugly things

bring hope






This dream is

what I am

Who I am

and what I will


I cannot

Posted in Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , on March 31, 2013 by Myra's Circle

I cannot promise,

You a thing,

I cannot hope,

For more to bring.

I cannot dream,

Up anything,

I cannot wish,

For a single thing.

I cannot see,

For I am blind,

I am not me,

Or so you’ll find.

I know that this,

Might sound so shallow,

I think that this,

Means more seeds to be sown.

I am Free

Posted in Fantasy Stories, Hopeful Stories, Sad Stories, Stories with tags , , , , , on March 7, 2013 by Myra's Circle

January 12th, 1995

Dear Diary,

This dream, this painful dream.  Why can’t I escape from the expanding universe that has become my dreams?  I cannot seem to find a way out.  There is no light to guide me, nothing to get me through this awful black tunnel.  Save me, save me, I try to scream, but no words will come out.  I feel as though I will never wake, like I’m going to be stuck like this forever, my lips frozen in a silent scream of horror, body stiff as it tries to run, but fails.  There is no way out.  There is no hope left for me anymore.  I am stuck forevermore in this terrible dream that I myself created.  And then, I see it.  A tunnel, the light, basking me in the sunshine again.  And it is beautiful.  The most beautiful thing I have ever seen.  Then I scream.  It was so confusing.




Posted in Happy Poems, Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , on February 22, 2013 by Myra's Circle

Life is a wonder,

One to behold,

One that is better,

Than any tenfold.

A smile is a wonder,

Rarely ever seen,

For the truth of it is,

It hides the obsene.

A tear is a wonder,

But a sad a one at that,

If you ever see it,

Please, dare to look back!

A dream is a wonder,

Too great to see,

For the wonder it is,

The wonder to be.

And Death is a wonder,

It is one, you see,

No matter how sad,

This sombre decree.

God’s Toy

Posted in Happy Poems, Hopeful Poems, Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on February 20, 2013 by Myra's Circle

You are my dream,

You are dead and alive,

In the moon’s faithful beam,

In the sun’s careless stride.

You are my light,

In the darkness prevailed,

In the bird that takes flight,

Under the clouds’ gentle veil.

You are my darkness,

When light’s not enough,

All my distress,

When things get too tough.

You are my smile,

When I have but none,

Just for that while,

When me, they all shun.

You are my life,

My care and joy,

You protect me from strife,

You are God’s little toy.


Posted in Fantasy Stories, Stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , on November 5, 2012 by Myra's Circle

I screamed in agony as giant white wings exploded from my back.  They were big enough to cover my whole queen-sized bed in a soft, feathery blanket.  I tugged at one of the feathers, wincing as pain shot through my back, jerking tears to my eyes.  I barely heard when my mother shouted, “Kailie, are you okay?” from the kitchen.  I closed my eyes and counted to three.  1… 2… 3… “And OPEN!” I whispered, my eyes whipping open lightning fast.  The wings were still there.  Maybe, if I counted to ten, my mind would finally drag me out of this nightmare world where wings erupted from ordinary teenagers’ backs.  How do you know you are ordinary?  whispered that nagging little voice in the back of my head.  Counting wouldn’t work.  It would never work.  Only then did a sudden realisation sink in.  I couldn’t be dreaming, because if it were a dream, I wouldn’t have experienced such extreme pain.  It was real.  I had wings.  I took a deep breath and stared at my reflection in my bedside mirror.  I was an angel.  A seraphim.

The Devil’s Deal

Posted in Hopeful Poems, Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 31, 2012 by Myra's Circle


We stand there quietly in the street lights,

Oh, so quiet in the yellow moonlight,

Watching cars speeding by,

Not even a glance, nay, not even a sigh.

This moonlight must be so very old,

The moonlight feels so very cold,

Yet we stand there, all of us,

We stand there, waiting for the Dusk.

When Dusk arrives, we must be swift,

When Dusk arrives, it will simply drift,

If this is a dream it is a horrible one,

For if this is a dream, the dreamer must have so much fun.

I know that soon this dream will end,

I know that the evil of my dreams’ friend,

And now I wait here for the Dawn,

I wait here, and prepare to mourn.

The Dawn will come with all evil’s might,

The Dawn will come, bringing the darkest light,

If tears spilled then, I did not feel,

The tears spilled then, the weight like the devil’s deal.

I cannot succumb to this painful slumber,

I cannot succumb to this torturous lumber,

Blinking once, twice, and once again,

This deal is the deal of Hell’s own men.