PART XI of Lost Romantics
no more sleep,
vision clouded like overcast skies,
words will kill,
but so will the lack there of.

I thought i was dying,
because of secret deceptions,
when really I'm breathing,
as you're frozen with lies.

How'd things end up this way,
the way i feared they would?
Dreams can be nightmares,
but my dream-catcher didn't catch this.
So I'm looking for holes,
a gap in the design of things,
a mistake in a woven pattern,
or just a broken thread.
But I'm finding nothing different,
so tell me is this why the words have run down?

no more trust,
its a man-made pond run out of water,
its no reservoir,
it's just a false lake made for us to stare at.