Pastel Coloured Dreams

How did we get to this place we said we wouldn’t?

To this place we surely knew we shouldn’t.

Eerie and damp is the boneyard of dreams.

Where our palates run grey with monotony

and our hands red with the blood of our children.

Remember back old friend,

to when we could stand on joy itself.

When we subsisted on discovery alone.

Every single thing in the sky

was a world wonder in our eyes.

Ever encroaching, death fooled us all.

Taken from us those beautiful pastel coloured winds

that coloured our youths with lofty love.

Where did those dreams go?

We fought for our lives, ready for the bitter end.

In this we stole ourselves away. And killed our dreams.

Dead before dying.

Who have we become if we are not the children we once were?

Dear friend, come back.

Dance with life, and breathe colour again.

Be wonderstruck, and live with me.

Though I may die, my dreams will always be.