DYING

The dream lay dying
In a manner of neglect
As the crippled cry
Of clanging cymbals
Sounded its pretense
And love languished
Along the lavish illusion,
Hiding hungry hope.

The vision vanished,
Leaving lonely the language
Once spoken sweetly,
Now silent and slow
To recover reasons
For forming fondness
Within the voice once vivacious,
Now of negative note.

Will the wounded win?
Where and why does wonder wait?
A miracle maybe
Could curtail collapse
And daunt demolition
Eager and evil;
Possibility's promise
Healing hardened hearts.