Beneath air glistening with a phantasmal glow,
We came upon no break nor beauty
That called for thought or reflection.
The clouds were jewelled and vast,
And the skies beyond held visions of stellar births,
But what use these sights with none to behold?
Waiting for the prestige, we swam on in the dark.
Where is the will to refuse or rise against
A power, or an empty hand that forces?
Though the flow takes us nether, we shall
After all, remain your helpless children.
There were times when the dream was
Rough at the edges but pleasing to an eye,
But what thirst they quenched, gave no
Gain nor grouse to gamble or grapple with.
A dream is, after all, meant to be forgotten.
We listen to the night's chorus, we grow
Wary when chants call upon 'light' to lead;
We step back into the wispy remnants
Of the past and pray for ignorance to
Redeem us and defile this impossible truth.