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lost through anticipation

those dreams blinded by waking
with less than simple thoughts,
and now you feel your soul
tortured beyond any recognition,

idealistic moments of lost causes
dressing you so casually,
while softening storms still rage
and raindrops devour more sensations,
 
it becomes easier to give in
to the insanity of lost words, lost art,
the passing storm had it's chance
to wash away the latest residue,
 
releasing you only momentarily
from any popular self restraints,
as you dance towards the edge of
your own thought provoking waterfall.  
 
abetterstart
Written by abetterstart (james skinner)
Published
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