A DUET? NO..instead three!
SWEET, NO SUBSTANCE Dreams, Are made of: Love and rain, Acid pain..bitter, biting!... Of hurt, of hell.. A broken bell, Tolling timeless to final chances. Dreams become! Real rarely..really! Yet still, My soul, do they embrace, In that darkest space, Where dreams are maybe... They're an easy token..... Sign in to see full entry.