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My poetry

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language makes me who i am ... so here is a poem by me to you:

Reclining mindsleep by Leo S.

Falling down, till i rise up again... maybe then. I call it real, when it is mearly a dream. Why? Catistrophic misfortune? or simply to choose another path... where the mauntains end. I can only see whats ahead of me... dwelling in the past, to die there... but i already have. Now to continue my quest... only to recline upon a cloud, till it is that time. Passing through only to break the torn down walls of this prison... i made it myself.

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