Can a dreamer dream of satisfaction,
if they have never been satisfied?

The clock ticks beyond her,
and far from her reach,
it’s too late for time,
that’s gone now.

Forever is never forever enough,
for the ashes of dreams to die,
and stop their smoldering ways,
or the ashes of friendships,
long cool to the touch,
but never to the heart.

The heart will come along once again,
to heal the wounds deemed too deep,
and to rebuild your broken world,
with all your favourite toys,
and puppets to play with.

and the wooden soldier marches,
without sparing a glance,
to the left or the right,
confident in his direction,
and ability to feel heat,
despite the smell of fire.

As the fire licks the wood,
will you come back and save me,
or will you enjoy the warmth,
of all our passion gone wrong?

The flame licks my tender skull,
as the sound of footsteps rage,
and the hero is forgotten,
as smoke fills your eyes;
a tear for me I wonder?
Or nothing at all.

The
flame
licks
my
soul,
on
solitary
nights
filled
with
self
defeat,
and
too
many
chances
gone
astray,
as
your
flame
licks
my
soul.