I beg of you dream weaver …
With fear I close my tired eyes
each night, not afraid to enter
the dark, but fearful of the cries
reaching for me, from its center.
The day hastens me to go fast
as night longs for my presence,
awaiting to share with me my past,
I lay sweating from all my senses.
Dreams are very real, as life
contained in murals flashing before me,
often like fire flies, caught in flight,
I’m alone captured in eternal night.
So, I beg of you dream weaver
bring me there, only if for awhile,
for morning light draws so nearer,
wanting me to waken with a smile.
Vincent Moore 2018
He was born and raised in Montreal Canada among the Irish, Brits, Italians and French. Point St Charles (commonly called The Point) was the Hell’s kitchen of Montreal. He played, cried, laughed and fought on the street corners, survival was an instinct and watching each others back important. Vincent left home at 17 to find his way in the world, failure and success he had plenty of. He studied the Arts and loved to draw and paint. Took acting lessons and envied those on the stage under the bright lights and hoped to some day become an actor, writer, playwright or painter. Vincent welcomes you to his world of mystery, fantasy and solitude. You can find a few of his writings in one of 3 books he's published.In Absinthia- In Melancholia and In Passionata.