The Löst Dream

 

 

the-lost-dream

Bordering on insanity,
With no chance of reprieve;
I watched my löst dream,
Crumbling under rumbling traffic
In the street.
Powdered into senseless death,
With no soul for rebirth,
Taken by the next wind
To be sown,
On someone else’s earth.
Eaten there by scavengers,
Who feed their young
On old dead dreams;
The excrement of carnivore crows,
In the end
Will
.. all that will be seen.

© Fingleton (Octobre 2016) (Löst Viking)
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Löst-Viking/746104845419195

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