My spirit yearns to speak with words unheard,
with pleas of yesterday that pass by unknown.
Oh, how the memories of dreams have stirred,
only to render lives, loves and haves yet unsown.
For dreams visit nightly with mirror image wants,
which linger upon open eyes to suffer a whim's end.
Addicted notions drift about with needles and taunts,
assaulting my pumping resolve in hopes of a bend.
Illusions abound in my reality, but where from?
Such fancies toil endlessly for a surface breach,
leaving me to ponder why days become so glum.
Brighter tomorrows seem beyond yesterday's reach.
If the shimmer of night's jewels is all that truly gleams,
then perhaps forever is a glimmering, shallow abyss.
What more could I hope than to search unbound dreams,
for the soul's desire of love's fidelity, an unwaking kiss.