Sparkatale

They spent so long chasing happiness,

That when at last they found it,

It seemed a dull gem beside the brilliance

That they themselves had attributed to it.

Jubilant children dance under the moonlight;

ignoring the frigid embrace,

of the rain which pounds down.

Heedless to the peril nipping at their heels.

To what edges will they walk,

What shores will they visit,

In their quest for delight,

Will they stop before delirium?

Tread not on the dreams of the dreamers.

For sorrow does nothing to progress those who are lost,

towards reality or absolution.

And fear is a whip, loudly cracked.

I lost track of the times,

Where I stood in for reality,

Stood for the truth,

And crushed dreams and illusions.

Shedding behind me

a trail of tears and shattered

dreams.

Of what once might have been.