All out of Dreams

When you have run out of dreams
and life curls up like a dying leaf
in the cold, dry air of late autumn

Each day stumbles by in echoing sameness
a mindless meander toward no real purpose
hours filled with an aching tedium.

You end up lying and staring into the shadows
on the dull white ceiling, one hand fumbling
for the switch that will bring darkness

Reviews

[Ency Bearis]

To its true write, without the dreams, the desire all goes to nonsense and the shadow always linger to nothingness. Great provoking verses.