In the quiet hours of night, I grieve,
For dreams once bright, now hard to retrieve.
They whispered hope, painted skies so wide,
But time's cruel hand swept them aside.

Visions of futures, vivid and grand,
Slipped like grains through an open hand.
Promises made in youthful delight,
Now shadows that fade with each passing night.

Forgotten dreams, like ghosts they roam,
Haunting the heart, a silent poem.
Each one a fragment of what could be,
Lost in the tide, adrift in the sea.

Regret's cold whisper, a constant refrain,
Mourning the loss of what might have been.
Paths not taken, doors closed tight,
In the echo of dawn, in the pale moonlight.

Yet in this grief, a quiet flame,
A spark of hope that dares to remain.
For dreams may fade, but they leave a trace,
A hint of beauty, a fleeting grace.

So I grieve for dreams, for what was lost,
For the innocence gone, for the hidden cost.
But in this sorrow, I find a song,
Of resilience and strength, a spirit strong.


© sionx