there is no room for dreamers
in a circlet of smoke, aromatic and dense
counting footsteps up the balcony
where ivies gently twirled
there is no room for dreamers
into the station where all flee
there is no room for dreamers
with no clock and no god
nor guidance by winds
set sails
. . . .
yet there is no room for dreamers
here where i stand
with a window aside and mirror in my hand
to test a reverted nature
lights, expect them to dim
across the hill's waving rim
to follow trails of thoughts
gathering feathers and knots
but one to leave behind
a trace
for one to find
. . . .
as there is no room for dreamers
like me, my mind, my shadow, my absence
count at a heartbeat's pace
my footsteps
the floating lace
the ivy leaves
and willow trees
[once upon a time
within the midnight's silenced chime]
there is no room for dreamers, nor for this song of mine
