Treasure Island

Alex Duchovny


My Glistening Dreams of Glass


My glistening glass dreams slip from my hands,
I see them fall in slow motion, heading toward their impending destruction.
They crumple as they meet the harsh, immovable reality that is a brilliant marble floor.
Dissolving in an array of colours and beautiful sounds, they look so much but amount to so little.
They shatter forever in my mind, with no one to pick up the pieces.

The hourglass shines as the grains of sand rush through the smallest gap,
Bursting through into a new realm of life.
But when each grain passes the gap, it does not for me mean some newfound freedom,
It just draws me one step closer to the final verse of my own tragic ballad.
But the sand keeps falling, when will it stop falling?

And as my glistening dreams of glass,
Slip again from weary fingers,
The songs begin to fade,
The colours turn to gray.
As the universe carries on, unaffected by my presence...

Submitted: Tuesday, February 23, 2010

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