The Death of Dreams
A couple builds a home upon positive thoughts,
Thoughts plaited soft in assumed structures,
Structures of forever, of love’s warm talent,
Talent currently wrecked, torn apart.
Apart the couple drifts, unmoored, invisible,
Invisible the discomfort where love had been,
Been muffled now, this universe we fill,
Fill with stillness, cold and motionless.
Motionless the couple turns into memory’s ash,
Ash that glows then turns to trash,
Trash of promises and once-shared egotism,
Egotism now vanished, on either side.
Side by side, the couple used to stand,
Stand as one, with hearts unmanned,
Unmanned now by what life cashes,
Dreams are dead; the couple buried dreams.
Poem by N. Mugisho
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