Twas Last Night Poem by me poet yeps poet

Image on mirror blur As steam fill in the air. Wiping the vapour opaque I saw the image great Gathering the experience Nothing is fake Until I make it true With my holy presence. Beautiful words to describe the fear of loneliness, but no one to hear the pain. Well penned poem. Admirations and appreciations. Good work.

Good it was a midnight dream, imagine what if it were an early dawn's one and true!

You have re-created the dream scene very deftly so as to transmit it with stark eeriness. Thanks a lot, Dear Friend.

then the window opened I shouted with my entire mite but silence broke through as there was no delight my dream was buried in the middle of the eerie nite Yes midnight