Now I know, what dreams were made for: to create all things worth saying goodbye to *

There was a time when I’d still dream,
without knowing what dreams were.
Now I know, the world ends at the waking.

And every story told is a sweet parting upon dawn,
and each field we plow and sow,
a ceaseless labouring for the pain we are to harvest.

There was a time when I’d still dream,
but now I know what dreams were made for:
to create all things worth saying goodbye to.

And I tremble at the thought of sleep
when it seeks my surrender, and I dare dream no more,
lest I lose myself too at a fleeting blink of an eye.