Everyday drones on with muted emotions and dull aches for the slivers of memories from        

                                              the youngest of minds.

 A nostalgia pulls forward blistering and stinging, the only relief is the shining blade of imaginary scenarios beautiful and sharp.

 All lies are shed in the freedom of a setting sun, no longer tied to a noose of hope that now lays torn and frayed on the floor.

 Sweet harmonies come forth penetrating even the thickest of lies, with burning truths not even the deaf wish to hear.

 All at once, the glass is shattered and the sickeningly sweet flavor of realism hits the tongue.

 Ravens cry as they soar through the heavens, leaving agony and wonder in their wake.

 The fields of dreams are once again smoldering, turned to ash in an instant. 

As embers fall, painful wisps of reminiscence hit the ground turning once more into tears being shed from pale unseeing eyes.

Forests of nightmares grow during ragged and uncontrolled breaths, forcing the most stoic of faces to turn green with sickness, and white with shock.

Cold sweat turns to oceans made ravenous by raging storms of fear, hands reaching out hoping to feel the familiar and tender pull of longing

All too soon the tempest calms and the oceans are once again controlled dams waiting to burst with old regret and scorching melancholy.