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.

.

.