Mantlepiece Of Dreams

The louring clouds breathing down on me, Aiding life's growing woes, Swathed in Belted plaid I sit perched upon My antiquated throne, Scouring abandoned books seeking light As darkness grows, The delving into unloving hearts leaves a mind That's made of stone. The mantlepiece of dreams where my most valued treasures rest, The windows dressed in damask gold never Face the bitter cold, Where I fill my world of beauty as you stripped Love from my breast, I sit and wonder in my loneliness as the cobwebs And I grow old. Once I saw my life in the flames of passion Those eternal days of youth, Now I wither in my own silence, where flames Have new meaning Reflecting on the pictured walls glimpses of shadows And of truths, No angels sit above this throne, my lonely nights Turn to dreaming. A family gathered, of graduation portraits adorning The bleak walls, Of curtains flung open and nature dancing, the sun And moon collide, A hero as a father but as a man , a hurting child With many flaws, And beauty not on a mantlepiece but always By my aching side. The unseen heart and soul has long since flown This world of pain, what's left is nothing more than a living corpse Within a beaten frame, All my living days I treated life like it was just Another childish game, But your heart I keep on the mantlepiece, My tears, the window pane.