Precious Dreams We Share

Precious Dreams We Share
© Surazeus
2025 06 05

When my heart is enchanted by black eyes 
of the thousand-year-old vixen I love, 
I give up all that is bad for my soul 
so we can dwell together in our home, 
which we create from precious dreams we share, 
till eternity transforms us to stone. 

Together in posh restaurant by the river, 
at round glass table with bottle of wine 
by the three-hundred-year-old marble fountain, 
which represents how love flows endlessly, 
we hold hands and gaze at each other brightly, 
loving life since death could strike any time. 

So we are young, healthy, and beautiful, 
two strangers from opposite sides of Earth 
who pick each other as our special mate 
out of billions of people on this globe, 
yet random chance we meet and fall in love 
provides principle for our love to thrive. 

Though politicians and rich oligarchs 
ally together to grasp wand of power, 
then fight over who will control the game, 
we continue with our private romance, 
vowing to work together with strong faith 
to survive though civilization falls. 

Though she has lived many long centuries, 
meeting and losing countless friends to death 
as she buries endless lovers in Earth, 
she decides with ache of love in her heart 
that I have become the most special soul 
whom she has met in the past thousand years. 

Yet I too will grow old and pass away, 
vanishing from vibrant dream of this world 
as fragile flame that flickers in the storm 
of endless time which sweeps all living souls 
into relentless flow of constant change 
which crushes all our Heavens into dust. 

Walls of our home we build from memories, 
we share in drama we perform each day, 
protect our spirits with enchanting charm 
conjured by selfless respect of our hearts 
when we cooperate in honest quest 
for treasures that sustain our fragile souls. 

This secret home in haven of our hearts, 
which we create from precious dreams we share, 
provides safe sanctuary for our love 
to blossom sweet nutritious fruit of faith 
from melancholy muck of cold despair 
till eternity transforms us to stone.