The Dreamer
Flawless face of girlish fantasy
Gives way to time and weather worn.
Visage of perfection replaced by sagging skin and hair of gray.
The dreamer forced to see in him,
her hero and her hearts desire,
Eventuality, reality, mortality, finality.
Girl now to woman grown,
Wife and mother, friend and lover,
Yet dreams of misty memory remain
in him alive,
Though time now takes its toll.
Her heart concussed by fate
To take the dream and alter it so cruelly.
She longs to see in him the hope
that he forever shall remain
The symbol of perfection in her eyes,
Though his have dimmed.
And though they speak of love and loves
and happy times and tales beyond the telling,
They are weary now, the light in them is fading.
Mismatched windows, curtains closing,
Yet the soul inside still calls,
Reaching deep within to touch the dreamer's heart.
And though she knows the dream must fade and die,
She does not mourn, she does not cry.
Her heart shall hold it still
Clutched forever to her breast,
'Til breath and body and all thought
have whithered into dust.
Only then shall the dreamer truly stop her dreaming,
Til darkness falls and dreams begin anew.