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Description
Golden dreams fall
Like dust in the afternoon sunlight
Streaming through the broken windows
Of a forgotten hall.
Velvet carpets
Faded to a sad pink
Lie across the floor like fresh corpses.
Heavy, final, warm.
The birds chirp outside
Dancing in circles around cherry blossoms
Pink as sunrise
And as young as the hall is old.
You step along,
Timid as the springtime
Eager as an autumn's crisp breeze
The tips of your slipper'd toes
Pressing little memories into the dust.
Begin to draw pictures
On the walls with your ink-stained fingers
Close your eyes
And part your pretty pink lips
Whisper to the past
And offer your limbs to the grasp of time.
Take his hand.
The bowtie drawn across his finger
Like faded roses
Will draw you in
With forgotten meaning.
He leads you around the world
Your head spinning with sensation
With pain, with heat, with the sound
Of pumping blood
Wildly
He leads you around the world
Barely touching down
Never stopping
Spinning deeper into the dream
Of what was there before
And the ink on the walls
Fades to grey and crumbles
Your little slippers split at the seams
And the birds fall quiet.
The sun is nearly setting
And you fall back,
Into his arms.

He hands you a rose.

Description
Golden dreams fall
Like dust in the afternoon sunlight
Streaming through the broken windows
Of a forgotten hall.
Velvet carpets
Faded to a sad pink
Lie across the floor like fresh corpses.
Heavy, final, warm.
The birds chirp outside
Dancing in circles around cherry blossoms
Pink as sunrise
And as young as the hall is old.
You step along,
Timid as the springtime
Eager as an autumn's crisp breeze
The tips of your slipper'd toes
Pressing little memories into the dust.
Begin to draw pictures
On the walls with your ink-stained fingers
Close your eyes
And part your pretty pink lips
Whisper to the past
And offer your limbs to the grasp of time.
Take his hand.
The bowtie drawn across his finger
Like faded roses
Will draw you in
With forgotten meaning.
He leads you around the world
Your head spinning with sensation
With pain, with heat, with the sound
Of pumping blood
Wildly
He leads you around the world
Barely touching down
Never stopping
Spinning deeper into the dream
Of what was there before
And the ink on the walls
Fades to grey and crumbles
Your little slippers split at the seams
And the birds fall quiet.
The sun is nearly setting
And you fall back,
Into his arms.

He hands you a rose.