Oh, the death of that dream that I knew so well. It flicks behind my eyes; a heavy flamed candle burning the corneas.
I did at one time see the dream come alive before my eyes and that flame bounced, rising and falling into the cosmos. It grasped for the white light of the moon to compliment the gold light of our earthly fires.
Those days were filled with awe but the night has extinguished the bouncing flame; the connection no longer sparks and ignites when we see each others firm countenance, hardened to the obvious pains.
My eyes, no longer, are bordered by love. They have become windows of black leather panes.
Now the flicker of our fire is but a terrible burning that is weaving through my heart and singeing the delicate fruits of my limp organs.