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.