Building Castles in the Sky

A pinkish haze. Ahead a sheer mirage. My dearest girl. You're on your

hundredth rage. You dream of stars. But life says never,

no. How long will you knock on that door?

I speak of facts. You speak of wings. Your spires rise.

But drown in tears and stings. And yet in your eyes, again,

again. A spark ignites to kill the pain. You build your

castles out of sand. With faith that burns your fragile hand.

You bite your lip until it bleeds. And chant, "This time I'll