Wisps of a Shimmer of a Dream

Gone.

Faded has the clock become

Ticks, slower and slower

Numbers , faded

Stuck would be a word

Alas, to be stuck is to be somewhere

Nothing.

A glance would tell

Something is amiss

As they say:

"Something can come from nothing, but can nothing come of something?"

Traces.

What are traces

Something showing that nothing is left

If even nothing has left

Then is nothing left

Sure.

That thing that is left IS nothing

That must be what it is

But if nothing leaves, what remains

Wisps.

Details of a thing not forgotten

Forced out of being

Begging to be Seen.

Heard..

Felt...

Shimmers.

Dancing on the outline of an unsuspecting eye

Illusion to the present

Fact of the past

Light that should have long went dark

Still shining on the edges of abyss

Dreams.

Places of fiction and fixation

Moments scantily held together

Be it by Love, Passion, Trust, Lust, or Longing

Hate, Resentment, Fear, Anxiety, or Disdain

Captured in ones mind and soul

Begging to be released into reality

If only for a moment...

Wisps of a Shimmer of a Dream