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,

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 hope,

without chance;

beautiful dreams flow like a river,

on their way to imaginary seas,

dancing like butterflies

on the morning wind,

echoing sounds of magic,

within the caverns of

mindless souls;

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;

sometimes the greatest love

is that which never was.

.

.