A jaded dream looks out the dust streaked windows,
With flaccid eyes, wilting with despair.
Fingerprints left on the grimy sun bleached walls,
like crumpled and forgotten black and white photographs.
Time that’s neither lost nor gained.
Cobwebs take over the ceilings where emblazoned chandeliers once hung,
Which now lie shattered on the rotting tiles.
Useless and untouched,
Like abandoned harlot’s children.
Ravaged dreams that are never accomplished.
The open window in the attic,
takes out the depressing stench of a jaded ancient dream,
And carries in another sad song…
The tall grass grows like a wild untamed child from the cracks in the floor.
And the leaking tap in the mildewed bathroom drips out a sickening steady rhythm.
Like a war drum beating out a death sentence…
Wallowing on the empty feeling of defeat,
Like fallen warriors dying slow agonizing deaths.
Their thick blood like melting dark chocolate,
Bittersweet and escaping their mangled bodies,
Depriving them of their very existence.
All dreams are cursed with an endless sea of hope,
But no accurate fulfillment.
This lucid castle full of sorrow and regret,
is not only mine… But every soul’s.
For this is where all dreams come to die…
Currently listening to Baby Dream In Cellophane
By Porcupine Tree