Dying Dreams

Sweet dreams are made of memories,
chained by ideas,
pushed by will,
given by trust and love,
tested by anger and misunderstanding,
so much comes for the dreams,
let it be know of how it could be given,
yet still be taken away just like so,
given in the golden city is no where near,
not even close to how it can come true,
not like this,
but somehow,
it’s a flame not close to dying,
and in that,
feeding the fire with what remains,
is all that can be done,
and personally,
that is just fine.

 

 

 

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