J.A. Stein
I dance on dreams of shattered glass.
I never even heard the crash
As the wall gave way.
My feet grow bloody as I swing and sway.
The song still plays
The drumbeat pounding clearly.
Is it my heart refusing to weary?
My eyes in pain though teary
The dream can not be dead.
If those pieces could catch the tears I shed
Could I wash away the dread
Of what Nothing truly feels like?
My heart it pounds
My voice it cries
No words needed for the lullaby
Of dreams so long past dying.
