© Written by Benedixio Moore Khoti Like flowers quickly fading... Like hopes dissipating into shades of despair Will my dreams brutally wither? Will the falter and fall flat on their back while they dart far and wide, left and right corners of the earth hiking hooks of favor or luck. Will my beautiful dreams ever flaming with desire grow weary and rusty as old age? Will their melodious tune sour into a sombre dirge or simply come to be a cliché like an adage. Will these dreams of mine buzzing like bee sail with the sea...? Will they battle the savage tides of rough waters and drift ashore... Or will they soar with the wind and get blown into a realm unbeknownst to man... Will this ebb and flow - shimmer like show ever halt and stall? Will the rivulet of ideas rioting in my head ever dry and my frolicsome smile fade into a cry when my tears of joy get lost in the rain and sunshine gets stolen from my eye, when the heap of my goals scamper and scatter to hide where hands of hope can never reach... Now I ponder and wonder if my dreams are a blessing or curse just in case I suppose stop and pause for a quick dose of self assurance.
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