Killing Of The Dreams

The fire flames


And sparks flown


By wind to outskirting leaves


Soon all is red and yellow tounged


All is burning 


A beautiful night of stars


That shut their eyes


To the bright fire


That grows too hot for them


Still the moon is constant as ever


And watching it all


A wealthy young


Holding a paper symbol


All is worthless to him now


Dreams die in the face of fulfillment


Still fulfillment dies a second after


And you are left with nothing


Nothing at all

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