it slips through the pines
hungry shadow; its touch turns into ice
red as blood
white dream in crimson beads
I feel like I drift between realities. One chosen by heart and second forced into mind. The heart reality is filled with forests, wild, untamed and dark, my hair are black as night and my strange eyes glisten with unearthly gleam. I dance with fairies, I put glamour on mortals, I speak in the language of the birds.
But the second reality reminds me about itself with the world, which falls apart around me. My country is destroyed, my health will never be good, my finances are in awful state.
I want to stay in the first world, but I know I will fall, if I look into it too often.
This world is not for dreamers.