Post by op9no2 on Sept 25, 2010 4:22:11 GMT -5
Oh, dreams of mine, the sight of you was that of Heaven.
Golden streets.
Crystal sea.
Everything imaginable to a gentle mind.
The sound of you like the singing of birds in the evening.
It was you that gave me reason to go on.
It was you for whom I lived.
I nurtured you every night.
On the edge of my bed while my left arm hanged.
It was you of whom I thought while drinking coffee on rainy days.
You, my dreams, were my hope.
Oh, how dreams die.
Fragile they are.
Like thin glass that falls.
Your durability is that of a childhood and your grief is that of a lifetime.
Oh, how dreams give in.
Cowards they are.
Surrendering at the first threat of pain.
Selfish they are.
Leaving me when I need them the most.
How evil they are.
Feeding my anxiety.
How dead they are.
Never coming back.
How terrible the aftertaste of dying hopes.
How disgusting the smell of rotting anticipation.
How bitter the high treason to which I forcefully submit.
Oh, dreams of mine, where is your promise now?
Where is that heaven?
Where is that melody?
But it's okay.
After all, that cowardice,
that selfishness,
that evil,
and that death are all mine.
It was I who broke first.
It was I who betrayed you.
Golden streets.
Crystal sea.
Everything imaginable to a gentle mind.
The sound of you like the singing of birds in the evening.
It was you that gave me reason to go on.
It was you for whom I lived.
I nurtured you every night.
On the edge of my bed while my left arm hanged.
It was you of whom I thought while drinking coffee on rainy days.
You, my dreams, were my hope.
Oh, how dreams die.
Fragile they are.
Like thin glass that falls.
Your durability is that of a childhood and your grief is that of a lifetime.
Oh, how dreams give in.
Cowards they are.
Surrendering at the first threat of pain.
Selfish they are.
Leaving me when I need them the most.
How evil they are.
Feeding my anxiety.
How dead they are.
Never coming back.
How terrible the aftertaste of dying hopes.
How disgusting the smell of rotting anticipation.
How bitter the high treason to which I forcefully submit.
Oh, dreams of mine, where is your promise now?
Where is that heaven?
Where is that melody?
But it's okay.
After all, that cowardice,
that selfishness,
that evil,
and that death are all mine.
It was I who broke first.
It was I who betrayed you.