Upon the Horizon

upon the horizon
of a moonglow night
lie the dreams
of the angels inside
layer upon layer
of intentions unfolding
into golden hues
of enchantment-
the lost diadem of old

on the pillow
a head rests
to serenade the darkness
with radiant illusions
that stupor
does harken

from whence
come our dreams?
an escape of ourselves
the nebulous
of what is to be
forever lost; forever shelved
upon the silken forest
of sleep

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