What is Lost

What happens to the writing that's lost in the wind?
The lyrics and speech you burn with desperate passion in your own mind,
only to have dusk of dreams sleepy breeze
cool it to ash and whisk it away.
Morning light holds a trap of inspiration.
New glimmering beauty like a blessing to your heart and your pen,
yet this light only shines one way.
Where do the forgotten notes go?
Do they leave to travel the world and its ever changing rhythm?
Can these lost songs and stories collect in a golden heaven of their own?
The dreams that die,
and the beliefs that fade.
Can they be saved somewhere in this world?
Can dying art survive,
or is it gone and lost with no hope to revive?