Weep
Some days I wonder why I wake when dreams I fancy,
In their fabrications do I wonder and weep.
Sorrow softly slips me into realities of impossibilities where I do leap.
These times are fragile fragments shattering when silence is subdue.
When quiet quickly flees, noise, neither needed nor welcomed, does creep.
Like a condemning conscience, truths of tomorrow are forever,
And sleep succumbs by slings of reality.
How a chance could dawn a dream, and set momentary motionless to this setting sadness in sleep.
Shrouds of future failings suppress fantasies of frivolity, replaced with the woven woes and worries of ever.
I no longer long for courage, love, or life, when pillows may pluck and pick me to peace for just a few tears, I shall
willfully weep forever.
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