Dead Dreams

Crushed dreams make sad bodies

Their vacant eyes sing haunting maladies

Floating dead in stagnant, forgotten waters

Whispering, “They shot us”.

 

Each time wind blows, a sudden redeemer

It stirs the bodies, the reek floats

And reaches the dreamer

In slow tears, delivering the blow

 

Such is the nature

Of crushed dreams

They’ll find their dreamer, by all means

Till they drag him to the earth, fire and the sea

And then shall they finally, cease to be.

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