When Dreams Die

To view the light through shrouded veil

while all around dark shadows fall,

and struggle on to no avail--

embittered, broken by the squall.

There is no freedom, no parole

entrapped by all your lies and schemes.

You’d rip one’s heart and burn their soul,

and finally dissipate their dreams.

Few words are said, but actions speak

with contradiction, no remorse;

the constant struggle leaves one weak,

and laboring to stay the course.

Disarmed by masterful disguise,

you shrewdly stole all self-esteem--

much too late I realize

that you would kill the dream I dream.

© Ginny Brannan 2013

Sharing at d'Verse Poet's Pub Open Link Night Week #88