You said it first; I mocked your words, and followed like a bird,
And of the joyous song we sang, all people once had heard.
To scarcely feel how hatred, remorse so wrong could be
The way the words just seemed to flow - a dying symphony.
So plainly seen as just another era in one's life
Was how it understood itself to daily free recite.
But deep within the casket and the depths of lovers' souls
Lies, dying with a vengeance, the truth from what is told.
They dream a dream unwaning, as to show how they are true,
But dreams are made for one alone and never meant for two.
But if a dreamer's mind breaks down the walls of prison bold,
A dream may seem what he hast seen, and time itself would fold.
Though rarely - oh, so rarely - as a snow in summer's peak,
Those walls they fall and crumble, for love has made them weak.
And as each ember slowly falls like tears from wretched eyes,
They feel the warmth of each one's soul - a love you can't deny.
Though life may tear the skin and hair, and often break the bone,
With dreamer's love, and dreamer's soul, you know you're never 'lone.
Yes, homes will burn, and fires too, but ungainly, once it's true,
The only things that will prevail are dreamers...lovers...fools.
No bonds can hold together, no bonds could surely break
The fire of one's own desire - alone the pain will take.
Hearts never forgive or die, they're endless like the time;
Though all this true, though I love you, I still can't make you mine.
© 2012 Jene'e Patitucci
Poem composed in 2007
