The wind howls in
the distant memories
of my dark diluted past.
They sing about my
own down fall from grace
that can only be sung
with the descent from
innocence.

The dreams of magical
worlds and of happy
moments seem to be a
bitter reminder of
how we dared to dream in this
world.

Did I mention that I have
given up on the world that
binds my body and soul for
the moment in this plane
of existance?

I should explain myself
for at the moment despair
seems to be my ally and
partner in crime.
A conflict lingers in
my mind.

A conflict no better then
the world of mine.
They tear at each other
like vicious wolves who
fight over my last
dinner roll.

One tells me the reality of
my past and my future.
The other tells me
about my dreams to dull
his partners dagger like
tongue.

What are these dreams that blanket
my fragile delicate mind?
A simple dream about success
and victory of obstacles.
The obstacle of love and career.

And yet there is nothing but
dreams in a idiotic duel
personality of my own
hatred over the world and myself.
No happy endings and no more
story books can replace
the stories of this life.

I have bleed my last drop,
and each cut reminds me of
broken shattered dreams of
my youth that is but just
another broken dream.

10/13/2003

Posted on 10/13/2003
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin