Resurrection Of A Fallen Dream

Kelly Abe


It started as a fantasy spun off a lack of vanity;

And promised me my sanity like warm satanic sympathy;

Stoned and drank through tragedy, unfocused from fake majesty;

A college of nostalgia flashing back through acid imagery;

The maturation managing constricted in calamity;

In questioning humanity the dream became a mystery;

The history exposing the illusion of a canopy;

To cloth a king from shining on the beauty of our misery;

Continued as a goal, a vanity mixed motivation;

No more satanic sympathy, just selfish, stubborn fury;

From ashes we rise; to ashes one fell from premature cremation;

The newest rib cut off the limb was crutch-like cast to cure me;

The final cut, the holy grail, was within guesstamation;

To persevere, i dignify the ones who came before me;

Embarking on a train of thought that reaked of revelation;

The first to fear, the last to hear, the masses can't ignore me;

But just as all the corners meet, a sharpened edge has frayed;

And life leaks from the forest that we planted years ago;

And now it seems we'd walk the path of dream which he once made;

Apparent is the naked truth in heart we fear to know;

And yes i felt his passion; and it's running through my veins;

And yes i feel his wisdom and i've taken it to grow;

And yes i feel his honor and his dignity and pain;

And no, i'll never lose the love he never failed to show;

But this is life and this is pain; i'll die a cultured man;

The mourning of a hero brings the morning of assurance;

And i'll never mourn commraderie; this brotherhood will stand;

In absolute, it's nothing less than fuel for resurgence;

To finish off the dream i know his character demands;

To transform into brutal strength emotion that is nervous;

And carry out the fortune and the passion in his plans;

To let them know the man beneath the phenom that will surface.

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