Grasping the Remains of a Dream

A breeze blows across the lonely field,

Sweeping up ashes and burnt grass remains.

Once children used to play here:

Now, nothing but desolate souls in agony.

The sky shall remain gray,

Only a tree remaining:

Standing alone, leafless and barkless…

A dream I once had.

 

No life, just the vultures tearing at the dead.

I don’t want to live; I don’t want to die.

Hell is worse, but this is hell.

I seek answers in a world unknown,

And watch the last spark simmer into nothingness.

Where is hope?  Where is light?

The reality of gray surrounds me,

As the dream comes to an end.