Where there are no longer tears
To cry,
Where all has given up
And no longer, do we even try,
To save illusions that have died
Where daffodils have cried,
The day they were to bloom
And roses lost their red
Very much, too soon
A world where dreams were clipped,
Before reaching the moon
And where the sea, drowned itself
In an insignificant lagoon
That is how it feels
When all has lost appeal
Dreams over,
All illusion, gone
Much too soon.
Lone voyager
Where is it
That you sadly,
Travel?
With no baggage,
No dreams,
Left to unravel.
In the golden sunshine
Of the afternoon.
You
Raised your hand
Slender, wet with rains
Of our nostalgic youth.
Softly
The flight of birds
Resounded the orange chants
Of the once green temple of lust.
You
Threw a slender smile
Melancholy over the bow
Of your hazel green eyes.