The name I once treasured with silver and gold, to love locked up in memories with pain I sold.

Dreams, how distant they seem,
through history it has been teamed and
linked with philosophy and themes
of life or death, dirty or clean.

In one dear dream,
I checked my forgotten phone,
just to find a few messages flown
and carved with black stone.

I realised immediately I was in a dream.
The messages found in the residence,
read it too late. It was reminiscence,
the messages was from One who is like Providence.