• (written 2/26/2009)

    To The Death Of Dreams

    Dreaming in the past distant far beyond fallen below.....
    For that which I still long to touch, have yet to know.

    I wander longing for timeless embrace which lovers do keep.
    My arms are empty as my soul: silently tears fall as I weep.

    Reflections of glass between what I and what others do know.
    Once I lived now merely exist my weary heart now grows cold.

    What is real, what is illusion? Fleeting shade I cannot hold!
    To love yet what IS love? Glory from above or hellfire below?