Unfaded desires
haunt the light
of dreams.
Strange, desires
for a future
becoming
familiar yet
never arrive.
Does it cease?
this dreaming.
Or carry on?
Somehow
a mockery.
Days fail.
So what then
is the secret?
What drives
our dreams
to carry on?
Knowledge
is certainty,
desire, a plaything.
Dreams?
What are dreams?