The "Dark Dreamer"
I've walked this road in my life
Two dreams of mine for you to unravel
I lay face down at her garden gate licking her dirt, grit, and filth, choking the last flicker of life from a ragged-edge heart that I never owned.
So this is how it ends. I feel funny, but laughter escapes me.
So this is how it ends. I feel suicidal, but death only teases me.
I guess, now that I don't have anything or anyone to lose, that death's not as bad as some prophets have yelled. Not nearly as dark as some doomed angels whisipered.
And this is her gate. I envisioned it back there as being perfect, white, and clean as a virgin's heart.
So this is how it ends. I feel dark, but my eyes see past her tapestry so evil.
So this is how it ends. I feel no emotion, but my soul cries for her moment.
Life? That's a joke, my judge. I was formed from dust, then forged with honesty and refined by blood, pain, and betrayal.
So this is how it ends. I see you, but never thought you looked like this.
So this is how it ends. I hear you, but your words only penetrate, not save.
From one breath, to the next, to the next, now I can wonder, why exile "my" hopes, wants, and desires from the human stream?
So this is how it ends. I stare at the dirt at my face, but only hunger for "a" taste of your touch.
So this is how it ends. I've completed the trek "you" set before these infant feet, and watched me fall.
From one age to the next, to the next, to the next, I tried, oh God, did I ever try,
to dream the dreams that allies speak, and cheaters seek.
So this is how it ends. A wall, but no door to open.
So this is how it ends. A crowd, but no one alive.
The dreams I had, when I could master them, floated away with wings as fragile as time.
I just sat watching "those" dreams, the fiber of my soul, and tattered hope, fly, fly, and fly to the abyss.
So this is how it ends. I'm not angry, but in "that" one day, I wish I could grasp it once again.
So this is how it ends. To sing her songs, dance under her trees, and see what she sees.
My dreams are dark. Bloody at times, and the stoutest of hearts have cringed, curdled, and even whimpered as baby born.
So this is how it ends. Dreams of dark, but one color, one flashing gold, I barely see.
So this is how ti ends. Darkness in dreams, now embraces my shoulders.
I love the serpent's lure. The dragon's ire. And maiden's eyes. All gone, all just illusions, all lost.
So this is how it ends. What have I to deal with? I feel hungered, but desire just one morsel.
So this is how it ends. Dark dreams, unpenned schemes, and sunshine's redeemed.
Ahhh, proud reality. How royal you are right now.
Ahhh, arrogance. How helpless you are right now.
So this is how it how it ends. Naked, trembling, speaking foolish tongues.
So this is how it ends. Nothing there. Nothing here.
Oh, for more dark dreams that satisfy my soul. That caresses my weak and elderly hands that hold . . .
a dust for her, a word for him, and a vapor left for me.
So this is how it ends. Dark dreams, I cannot hear you anymore.
So this is how it ends. Dark dreams, why can't you reach me now?
It's gone. It's stopped. It's finished.
So this is how it ends.
So this is how it ends.
More by this Author
Seems to me that most everyone else has a stalker, so why not me? I am decent-looking, charming, and know how to captivate a group at a party, so whomever dispatches stalkers, get on it!
(Just) talking about meddlers and busy bodies is not enough. It is time I did something about them.
Yes, "we" talk funny in the South. Need proof? Just read this hub.