Never Was

Out here in this wasted space
of no-man’s land;

no one hears the silence,
no one knows the loss,

alone and holding on,
waiting for imaginary rescues
among lost and broken places,
hiding behind enemy lines,
crawling on hands and knees
in-between burned out bunkers,
full of dry, empty words;

never quite reaching the mark.

Old debts return,
tears rain down like
sweet summer sweat,
holding on until
there is nothing left;

without a hope,
without a chance.

Beautiful dreams like a river,
flow on their way to the sea,
dancing like butterflies
on the morning wind,
echoing sounds of magic
within the caverns of the soul;

sometimes the greatest love
is that which never was.

One more time,
traveling down this
long and lonesome road,
searching for a home
inside lost and empty ruins,
running from fantasies that never were,
living within upside down dreams
which come and go;

over before it began.

My eyes have seen what others
have not,
my heart has known that
which no heart should.
.
.