Random Sonnet of Depression

Katerin ferch Gwenllian

Some dreams are better left in slumber's realm
Where dreamers' wishes shape romantic tales;
Where every knight beneath his shining helm
Is filled with tenderness that never fails.
Such hopeful fantasies, like fragile flow'rs,
When cultivated in a trusting soul,
With bounteous joy and beauty scent night's hours
But think you not, come dawn, to keep them whole --
For all too soon, some hurtful word is spake
That burns as does the sun and wounds so deep,
The dreamer has no choice but to forsake
The waking world to seek refuge in sleep.
O dreamer, mind you well night's fancies fair,
When seen in day's harsh light, become nightmare.

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