Awakened

Who's blood is this, upon my hands? The bitter sweet whisper of a dead memory lingers. All I once desired, now slips between my fingers. Crimson drops of sorrow spent in vain, staining the fabric of my sleepless dreams. Shouting aloud into this sadness, Deafened by my silent screams. Decades of ill spent hope, self deception and foolish fantasies, all in one moment, came crashing down. The dreamer awakens to the foul stench of reality, And the anger is all that remains. The wishing well ran dry, And the acrid smoke of a burning memory, scalds my weary eyes. I gave my strength away, to a hollow lie, and found only myself to blame. What I thought was meant to be, turned out to be a game.