In the still of the night
Once again that face has crept into my dreams like some kind of an unwanted intruder. And like always I paint a picture as if I had forgotten that once upon a time it was. But what it was exactly I can’t really say nor am I sure I ever truly knew. Maybe I tried to care too much but even so I was so totally driven by intensions back then. And now it all seems but a continual source of frustration that attacks the memories of my past hopes I guess it won’t ever go away and I know I’m mostly to blame for that but its debilitating all the same. And now that face that comes at night is like a dangling rope that I know full well dangles unattached. And there perhaps lies the crux of the biscuit maybe it was all a lesson in futility that I’ll never understand. And apparently life was but a one act play where the endings were hidden and never there for the choosing.