The Flowers of Oppression

Let us lay where blossoms bloom;
A meadow held in bright delight
Or field of gently dancing green
To keep our minds stay plain of fright.

As colder winds then bitterly blow
And in anguish leaves do tremble,
Figures creep and crouch in hiding
Afraid to stray harsh winter’s way.

In autumn’s last regretful sigh
Come frosted flakes in twirling rain.
They shift and tumble as they fall
To cover all with chilling pale.

So let us lay where blossoms bloom;
Our warmest shield; illusion dreams:
A pleasant ground in finest light.
But now awake and hear what’s real:

The radiator’s soothing hum,
Remind of things that must be done.
But hand in hand to sleep return
To cut away the piercing day.

And soon again that cherished bloom,
Rip and tangle, till we no more
May find our way from pastures green:
Our minds descent; illusion’s dream.