The death of dreams is sleeping life
Awake to feel the last exhale
Agape to taste the bleeding knife
A rotted passion sickened pale

I travel blindly, grasping twine
Unraveled fibers snap in two
My wailing sinks a gasping whine
In depths above while passing you

But echoes bounce me back with aim
A flash of reason lifts my fall
Like bursting cannons shouting flame
A plea to never crave at all

In seeking heights unknown to climb
The soul is set unbound and flies
It happens here in written rhyme ~
A heartbeat needing purpose dies