Garden Of Dreams...

As I walk among my garden of dreams,

No padlocks, no doors bar my way,

My sole, swollen with harsh tarmac of life,

Rejoices in touch with the moist earth,

As I walk in my garden of dreams.

Thousands of rapturous thoughts flitter like butterflies,

Making me smile, though with pain,

For used to the frown of life, 

Of moments past, of friends forgotten,

The comfort of the bonfire, in the chilly night,

Listening to tales, immersing in the lake of life,

As I walked among the garden of my dreams.

Who am I, whose place I was born in,

What good had I done, to live a life brimming with love,

Though they are with my ancestors, even in dreams reality bleeds,

But none can take my moments, no thief can touch my casket,

For vibrant my dreams are, who can bury them,

I walk in my garden of dreams.

What regret, what grudges can I hold,

When rainy days and long holidays,

Held more ecstasy than a thousand gold nuggets,

The walls may be peeling now,

Silence maybe my answer to my shout,

No echo familiar, none save a mocking present,

I smile at the fools, for whom their garment is precious,

The blood that falls from me, a thousand wildflowers shall blossom,

In the garden of my dreams.

I will pass away like beautiful dusk,

No fear or tears shall fall, no epitaph for me,

Save that I walked a path unknown,

For know I that they all await me,

To welcome me home again,

And my limbs shall get wings to soar, unfettered,

Refer, pain, malice or hurt, all mere cancers of flesh,

Shall fall as my soul will lift to the grey beyond,

The ones behind shall now walk, with same longings,

In my garden of dreams.