Who’s to say that dreams and nightmares aren’t as real as the here and now?” ― John Lennon
“In the House of Dragon”
And in the house of Dragon something beautiful came, outside the bottle, where it was, I think in a nightmare that was a wind, that creature did fly.
I arrive here in the house of Dragon, the moment I have held throughout my life, a dread and distress, with no light anywhere that seems to suffice. Grace does not abound here and the only senses that abide, are those that taste, instinctual, without elegance or those that cannot face sound. Around, turn around, nothing imagined, day to day, and it’s a heat that’s bound in a cold, cold war. Around the world seems to survive, my G_D all it does is circle round and round, senses not arising with the coming of each new sun.
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