this silent storm

Dreams

My eyes are growing heavy.
The world around starts to fade,
midnight colors pull on me
with a royal purple shade.
No fine details left to see
only outlines ‘gainst the sky
of the things that used to be.
On the dust of stars I fly,
in the night I am set free
to drift far from the present
to a place where we were we; 
to a place where we were meant.