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.