by Jason P. Stadtlander
The dreams that are shattered and the dreams that will be
Are never the dreams that were meant for me.
They follow the the path of leastest resistance
Feeding the pain in endless consistence.
I care not for the end of what future holds
For preference of sleep eternal unfolds.
The breath of my lungs and beat of my heart
Pound out the rhythm for every start.
From every start to every end
The numbness and prison from which I must bend.
Following paths regardless of action
Forcing the bridle to make it’s attraction.
Fuck this life, and the dreams for which I have told
Each day is a headache and fruitless to hold.
For it ends at this moment as life drips out
Leaving behind the hopeless and doubt.
And behind what is left of the dreams I once held?
Nothing but darkness and flowers I once smelled.
Flowers I smelled and darkness…