Poetry

Shards of Broken Dreams



Shallow as the deepest sea,
More hatred than even Satan can endure,
A thousand knives pierce my soul.
As I stand up ahead and mourn thee,
Death has not departed you,
Life dances in your finest beauty,
The loss I feel is tragic,
Like a poor magicians failed magic.
It stings me deep inside,
A hard attempt not to fall towards the side,
Murkiness fills this land,
Dimness clouds my existence.
I look up at the skies,
A Shard of my broken dreams flies
High above all that is of any weight,
Laughing at my sobbing figure
Standing aloft a dozen yarn,
Clutching a cloth of the departed,
Knowing all I have left,
Is in my hand, billowing in the wind,
A moment comes unwary,
Like a last breath before you are departed,
My grip loosens just a bit,
The cloth is flying farther still,
In these tears I weep today,
The story of my life moves to an end,
A new chapter written without a wish,
An Old dream lost all over again.
drops of dew I feel on visages still,
moments of softness in eternal hell,
Whispers of fear I heard still,
Softness of tears I feel still,
The story of my life concluding fast,
A burnt out candle or a broken mast.
fighting for one last breath,
Shards of broken dreams are all I get.

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