A little tyke once had a dream
To find true love within this stream
Though not he knew what this could mean
He moved with eyes of hope they beamed.
The tyke had learned his love was queer
To this world, his love was their fear
He moved on so, no time to cry
He knew his dream still touched the sky.
The boy has lived a journey or two
He's not yet done, his dreams still new
He hopes he'll meet a dreamer too
Who will keep him till their souls are due
The man still kind of has his plan
He's not met mutual men in the end
His dream is aging, it's near its last life
He's falling so fast, blending with the cold black night
The hermit doesn't have a dream
His only desire is to die peacefully
As the lost got their wants now they're left with no heart
The hermit's heart's hollow, he's left it in the dark.
Now a soul left to leave without serenity
Who'd have known that one wish would die out of plenty
Left alone in the dark of this phase of new death
Hopefully, this will mean that he can finally rest...
Sorry to be sad, but this is one poem out of two.
