Dreaming of perfect love an aging disillusion

with bitterness of trial hidden among wrinkles

created within rooms of a mind in seclusion,

no stars left to wish upon the brightest twinkle

when dreams become stale in a final conclusion.


And such part it plays this search of a lifetime

 our human nature mocking the reality of things

when there is no such love of perfectly sublime

if to soar and to fly may require to grow wings

which cannot acquire when we run out of time.



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