You slip through the tip of my fingernails into a breathless city of forsaken dreams, lost in heavy-hearted boulevards.
Wading your way into every vision; you know where to find your end in this darkness - though the light of faith is always sinking within the clouds of treason.
Shaken. Frightened; you take a step into the first alley:
A different kind of sky, agitated, and screaming buildings of terrible shape carrying angry dreams of the poor, having one scene in common: a just life in the eyes of the decayed..
At ease, you carry the most horrifying and reach the end light, escaping the most saddening colors to get to a city where black is an alienated vision.
The greenness and the free air paint a pure blue sky at daylight, and a barely cerulean view at night. A sun that kisses the moon with its amber light at dusk, and a bird that sings of no defeat. A still life, a surreal piece.
But dreams? You're almost through without a thing in your pocket, only miserable ones of the needy.
while at the gates of the city you find yourself soaked in another alley, of the starving and the severely brokenhearted. You beg your feet to move, but hungry skies hold you captive, pour their nation's dreams and free you; drunk on semi-dreams, semi-nightmares.
And then you pull yourself back to me, asphyxiated by dreams and pleading for my words to say it all, to save you.
But my pencil, it shivers.
And their dreams, they hold up, for the moment to rise.
Written August 3rd, 11:53 PM.
