The Man Who Dreamed His Life Away
THE MAN WHO DREAMED HIS LIFE AWAY
When I was young the Moon was lifted
Hung with tacks and thread
On a mystical ceiling of dreams
She in her skyward place I in my bed
We lay so tightly wed we two sure lovers
That all my years flew round passed us by
While from out our eyes some angels gathered dust
At length proud man at work by day by night
His busy light in flood on tissue walls
Tried describe to she and me a smoking glory in steel
And a prophet raved – “Hear! Heed!
Faith is the one checkered King
On this fantasian board a playing.”
But I like my Moon bearing such pale light
Long dead a mere reflection of life
Was old and could not rise
Copyright © Daver Austin | Year Posted 2011
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