why do dreams come true?

The evening
It comes with a different dawn,
A different lull
A queer storm.

It comes with remembrance of promises-
Non existing ones,
Which seem false anyways?

It comes with silences-
As old as they are new.

The evening,
It comes with tears
It comes hard,
It comes once again.

It justifies neither what is
Nor what was,
It comes with remembrances.

The evening
It comes
It mocks me
For things which seem to have stayed and gone
It looks at me and makes me wonder on.


It fades
Into relentless nights of dimmed afternoons.
It comes
It mocks me for things that seem to have stayed and gone.