Tuesday, 21 February 2012

Pleasant Lullaby

In the door, you came to call,
You the one who knew it all,
Flash a smile, a hand held tight,
An invite for another night.

The doorbell rings, she straightens her dress,
A night planned perfectly to impress,
The look in your eyes, she comes alive,
You leave as quick as you arrive.

Time moves on, all is fine,
Exchanging words like yours and mine,
You've both grown, you're someone new,
You love her and she loves you.

The world stops still, chill in the air,
You said that you just don't care,
You're sick of it all, this is the end,
There's nothing left for you to mend.

Out of door, you turned away,
Ignored the begging calls to stay,
No looking back, no last goodbye,
Here ends our pleasant lullaby.

Monday, 20 February 2012

Once upon a dream.

     Floating along on a dream. On a cloud filled with all the wonders of the world. High above the reality of the ground below, filled with the hate and violence of a repressed age. We can drift here for an eternity, living on nothing but the hope of a day to come. A perfect day where nothing is wrong, and you are here. A life of love and passion, wrapped in a bubble where not even the effects of time can get us. They try to grab at us. They throw their words to us, in hope of hurting us. They will never get us. Our surrounding shelter is too strong for them. We will spend all day wishing, knowing they will come true, and the world, for us, is perfect.
     The memory of the life before has disappeared for us. We were like them before you see. The world of the cold and hungry. We lived among them and did not even think that something was wrong. We took it for the normal thing, that so many can die and we carry on regardless. All the death is normal, accepted, expected. But those days are far behind us now.
     Now we create it. Our world. Our dream. Always in good company. Always loved. Always needed. Always wanted. And always safe.
     There was always a time when that bubbled was going to break. Shatter into a million tiny pieces and part us. I was left alone. Thrown back down into the world I fought so hard to escape. The dream escaping through the cracks and now time and pain can get to me. I can hear them shouting. They mock me. The voices of the days that past. They can get me now. Their tongues and claws reach out to grab me. They reach into my soul, past my skin and into my very mind. Removing all those dreams and the hope of a better day, and fill every inch of my being with the feeling of slowly dying.
     And there I am. Back into the day to day life of the world I left. They have got me. The dream no longer comforts me. I look back onto it and it is gone. I imagine your face and it pains me to think that you may have been a figure that I made in a dream. A perfect illusion.
     A dream is just a dream, and reality must eventually take its place. For those who live a dream barely live at all.