Under the starry night skies,
Resting on the withered grass,
With knees hugged to the chest.
Wondering how, or rather,
What went wrong?
For a dream to shatter like glass,
It's pieces scattered,
And some are lost.
All hope's gone for the dream,
She was once chasing.
To invoke emotions,
In the people who see her creations.
The passion for creating worlds,
With splashes of colors,
And strokes of brushes.
Tossed to the far end,
And sealed for eternity.
The vibrant colors that painted her character,
Gradually dripping till none is left.
A broken dream,
That swept the lass' beaming smile.
Her once sparkling golden orbs,
Now a window to a soulless young lady.
Glistening eyes locked in an abyss,
A never-ending journey to darkness.
The once lively studio,
Now, inundated with an eerie stillness.
The swift strokes of brushes,
Shifted into dull lines.
What is lost can never be returned,
And that is her glass of forgotten dreams.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryCome, and let us dance in my garden of poetry. The photos and artworks I will be using is not mine. This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents in this book are either t...
