VICTORIAN DREAM

VICTORIAN DREAM

Languid, torn trails of tears and thread, hanging from my dress.

Patchwork squares of desperation~SNARES~soaked deep inside the pools of my muddy fantasy.

Dragging me to the shelter,

hopes abound with confusion.

My door is stark, naked and bare.

Like the Winds of Time~ NOTHING.

There is a chiming that exists in the air, carried through like a swan~song.

I am like a church~bell, no-one is here, rendered mute and stone cold.

Wearily travelling~piercing pain~stumbling across the cobbled mess

I gaze at my ‘daddles’ swollen and red.

The ‘morbs’ consume me~so I return~EMPTY.

The skilamink that I have become~possesses me.

Through the dirty town, and then, they look upon my person...

Light after light~after light~after light...

Carousel’s of darkness enshroud my vision...

Complete shutter reels of disbelief

SNAP SNAP SNAP.

My life’s a photograph~the strife, the pain.

Where are my dreams? Where do they live?

Inside the soft snow,

melting my terrain of existence.

Thorns embedded along the path of time

Wrap me up and force me to dance.

Transform to ribbon and kiss my skin.

Mermaid’s whisper, I fall inside the clock.

Merge with the pendulum and go deep within

For I am a rock that knows no bounds.