Deja Vu

a multiverse existence,
where realities slip through
the hourglasses of time.

Memory is a sweet drizzle
originating from the clouds of conscience.

An atmosphere made of nostalgia
and we are the floating planet.

The galaxies unknown and untouched,
we bloom and wither in this cataclysm of life

I recollect all this,
from a beautiful dream with eyes open

so was it a deja-vu
or my hands just slipped of the typewriter

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s