You had a dream of living in a pristine world
where you would walk in streams of light,
sip cordials, and make love in shuttered alcoves.
The way had tangled bits, twigs and stones
on the path of a tomorrow you had dipped in honey
and the sacraments; of wishes born of desperation
and a dread of being ordinary.
Are your tokens worthless then;
what sacrifice did you not make to Truth
when you bartered everything
for sun and the glory you saw shining in the dream?
Reflected by her eyes, you decreed no bounty
high enough to halt the brazen notion –
and when she left, you placed silver dollars
on her photograph to rhapsodize the echo
of your shattered world.
View User's Journal
Countless Thoughts have been Lost throughout the Ages to the minds of Madmen and breathless whispers of the Dead. Man has come a long way from the Age of Thoughtful Words and Script. This is my dedication to those who have been Lost along the way.
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