Thursday, August 12, 2010

The last legacy

There was a time long long ago,
When my dreams were young, my child,
When they spoke of mornings crisp
as pages of a book opened the very first time,
Days dawned in those dreams fresh
as the breeze salt-laden on the sea-side.
Those were days when a long time ago,
In my dreams then I played with the sun,
Soared on gosammer wings of wispy clouds,
Bathed in volcanoes and floated on the sea,
My dreams were then a trusting child,
Spinning stories with the lady in the moon.

Time passed on its journey and slowly, my child,
Like an old shirt worn a thousand times,
The edges of my dreams were frayed,
Smaller they became, their skies more distant,
Ageing, they resembled a pot-holed street
That had no exit sign on the other end,
They now got scalded in the heat of the sun,
Flaky hope fell away like dried skin,
Until I clenched my eyes tight,
And shut all dreams out of them.

These blind dreams are all I have,
Their shattered pieces my legacy to you,
Still, though worthless pebbles they may be now,
Keep them secure in your eyes, my child,
As a memory of what this world could be.
Go my child, dream dreams of your own,
Unhindered by my legacy of broken dreams,
May your dreams bear fruit where mine were lost
in the dreary desert of endless days and nights,
Conquer the kingdom of dreams and make
This world fit for dreams once more.

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