Lost thoughts,
Drifting in and out of my mind.
Things so forgotten,
I was sure they would never come back.
But scars on the soul never heal,
When dead dreams haunt your waking moments.
Pain becomes a old friend we welcome with open arms,
And tears our daily offering to the gods.
Leaving us shallow and dead,
Nothing but empty shells standing in respect for things lost.
Our teas fall down and wash away our hopes,
But dead dreams never wash away.
These are my hopes,
My dreams.
Things that can no longer be held by mortal hands,
Dreams given life only by the moons pity on man.
Things so desolate that the sun would never let them live,
Dreams so forsaken that there wings have fallen.
And here among dead hopes and dreams,
I live by the moons pity lost amongst thoughts that never should have been