Magical Poetry

Magical Poetry
Micheal Ace

Sunday, 2 October 2016


I have read the daily rhythms
Authored on the leaflets of death
So I have known about this mystery
Of sleeps, their births and deaths.

I have read about the dark hours
In the lyrics of lyrical moonlights
I have heard the wholeness of her
In melodies of musical moon and lights.

So when I tell this tales of sleeps
Know, I've long slept before my birth.

There is a land on the outskirt of life
Dark and porous, kinged by the demons
There is a narrow path where men part
Some on course to life, others to afterlife.

That is sleep, the land of dreamers
That is the earth to heaven of dreamland
That is where demons caress all men
Where every carefree beginnings all end.

But if my tales of sleeps are lies
Know, I've had no sleeps after my birth.

There is a warfront of strong musketeers
Every men fights for the course they bear
There is a battle with desperate battalion
Of you and I, of mine and yours.

That is where my friend went last year
But only his shadows make it back here
That is where we leave to every living night
Where someday, I shall never come back.

If you still see my tales of sleeps as fake
Know, I'm still sleeping, so wait till I wake.

Micheal Ace

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