shattered dreams

what if the dreams are shattered
into pieces myriad
and lost in the places
where there are no admirers
the burden of carrying the dreams
and feeding them at a cost unattainable
the soul searching and the nudity
of your heart put forward.
the utter shamelessness
and the bold one inside me
making me wading through the mud
some were lost and some were drenched
while some were asphyxiated
seasons passed by
saying the formal greeting
and the time relentless
landing blows after blows.
am i meant to be tired
or the wise men of stupidity
nothing matters when there is void surrounding.
when i have to conjure a new dream.