Baronhawk's Nest

I was once a man of dreams
of lofty goals and high ambitions
the world to me then used to seem
as full of noble and good intentions

I used to gaze into the night
to see the stars that filled the sky
they once gave hope that filled the heart
with visions of pure and utter joy

The future then were verdant fields
vistas of dreams that defied description
a vibrant canvas, brightly filled
colored and shaped to my heart's contention

The past was a gallery brightly-lit
with beacons of remembrance to guide me home
a wall of memories both bitter and sweet
an alcove to shelter from the coming storms

But I am no longer a man who dreams
no more goals nor thoughts of ambition
the world to me now does surely seem
to be full of petty and jealous contentions

I still gaze into the night
to see the stars that have all died
they are nothing but points of light
whose bright-lit hopes are but a ploy

The future now are barren fields
nightmarish graffitis of all descriptions
a smudged canvas, tattered and filled
with broken dreams and shattered ambitions

The past is a gallery brightly-lit
with beacons of hurt to torch the soul
a wall of memories more bitter than sweet
an altar that magnifies the pain of it all.