We were young and we dreamed
We believed our imaginations
Or so it seemed
We were tied with our dreams
In strings, knitting our lives in seams
Believers of things not seen.
We had faith in our dreams.
That all we saw would one day wake up and come alive
That they would make up for all the times we put in
Dreaming… No we were actually working
Giving our time
Letting our hopes and hearts run free.
We lived in our self-built fantasies
Making up stories mixed with memories
We were young and foolish and knew no truth
Until fate happened…
A faithful mistress
Doing life’s bidding as would an apprentice to a seamstress
Knocking on the doors of our self-built manors
Walking into our dreams without any invitation.
Taking up our space.
Drinking our already brewed coffee.
And before we could blink…
We had lost it all
Our innocence and our flight
Our imaginations and our fight.
Our gardens became forests.
Our pools, deserts
All our hopes and dreams
Dashed against the walls as delicate china against concrete.
The pain it brought with it was numbing
We couldn’t cry like widows
We could only watch.
As fate slayed without mercy
A faithful mercenary doing the bid of its master
We couldn’t tell when we transited
When we turned old and frail
We would never know if we could have resisted
The forces it had with it and all its legions.
Now we’re older and wiser
But I sure miss the days when we could dream
Because in our dreams, we could fly
If only we reached, we could touch the sky
But in all truth, fate is a faithful bastard
Doing the will of Life. He’s master
Stealing away our youth and swagger
Leaving us with deep wounds, open and aching.
She’s A beautiful dark skinned singer n writer with zero tolerance for horror movies