Warfare of the Brain

I am forever reminded of a pastel beach in each recurring dream;

The place where I used to preside, a home of uncanny circumstance.

It feels like I’m right there when I close my eyes....

The cool wind through each strand of my hair,

Swaying to its whistling – the beat of freedom.

Your hand embraced mine as we laughed,

The soft sand hugged the digits on my feet.

You told me I was your sunset sky;

Painted with the fuschias and indigos of our love.

I told you, you were my vast ocean;

Reflecting me in the waves of your tides.

We believed that all who came would be envious of our beauty:

A masterpiece of two merged, heartbroken souls,

Devoted artists to our craft;

Forever reshaping the definition of fate.

To think we could play with fate!

When its cruel clutches only know how to take and take....

The pastel beach is now just a memory;

Broken shells like our broken hearts.

Sometimes I still think you’re walking with me,

When, really, I’m walking with nostalgia.

And, as the dream dissipates like clouds...

The wind dies out,

The sand turns black,

The water dries up,

The sky weeps with me,

Who am I now?

Without a home?

Without you?

If only I had known that we were two ships in the night,

Heading to separate destinations, destined to be apart.

I’m stranded on a salt-rock desert of despair,

I hope you’re shipwrecked in sweet, sweet paradise.

Perhaps, one day, I’ll find you with the compass of my heart.

Perhaps, one day, I’ll find the pastel beach in my dreams again.