Dreaming silent splits the streams;
Feeling shooting high and wide
From emptiness that reigns inside.
A flower, bent and broken hue,
To signify the end of new
Dreams and hopes and wintertimes
Buried in forgotten rhymes.
Silent screams and photographs,
Pictures of untaken paths,
Helpless lying and alone,
Sitting by unringing phone.
Chocolate lies and memories,
Nothing more to them than these.
Streams like ribbons flowing down,
Gentle streams without a sound,
Streams of life and memory,
Flowing to the ground from me.
Hollowed halls and noble names,
Ripped from me by countless shames,
Scorn and screech at fading life,
Taken by a sharpened knife.
Grass and flowers, day by day,
Cover the mound in which I lay,
Memories lost on life's dead shore,
Think of me, no, nevermore.