Aimlessly wandering around
Clueless and waiting
Amassing the dreams
Some fresh, some grayed
And yet some frayed and faded
Waiting to get home free
For that holy moment of consummation.
Discard this one, or keep this one
Tries to gamble the disturbed soul
But endlessly clutches on to them dear
Until the sure cold hand disband
In just a flash all of them dreams
to the casket or vault or ashes
what a choice!
Like dew drops on a summer’s day!