Strewn all about before him in a field of broken dreams;
Lay the scattered pieces of his once new beginnings.
Doors are closed and fences are wired and the battle line is drawn;
He guards the inner most of his existence.
And his face is lined with worry and marred by the tears;
From his rivers of sorrow for all lost hope.
His cries from within are deadened by the walls of silent anger;
And he waits; He waits for one who has not come.
Feathers of doves lay before him as if guiding;
But they are unknown paths and unsure directions.
Driven by desire but imprisoned by circumstances;
Escape seems hopeless.
In a secret place of his mind are memories;
Memories of yesterday’s that were once his new tomorrows.
A house is not a home and windows are fastened shut;
In a garden where flowers once bloomed;
Tangled webs of lies and deceit now loom;
And his universe goes unfed.
In his dreams comes a lady of magic;
Her face goes unseen, there's only a light from her eyes;
It penetrates his mind and somehow tells him;
That with her blown breath fences will vanish;
Doors will be opened.
And with her touch gardens will flourish; and hearts will be fed.
There is gentleness from her that shows him hope.
As the light from the new dawn brings him back;
To the place where he now stands;
These thought are repeated over and over.
Is she real; Will she really come?
Will she come in time?