His dream became his death sentence,
a quest to enfold beams of daylight
into his able hands, into open palms.
Chasing avenues,
tearing down butterflies
to steal their wings,
blinking away sleep,
he was determined
to not let this snapshot
become his last memory.
Eyes burning with restless beasts,
he let his heavy head beat
upon cold, glass stone,
giving one last tug
as his heart leaped out.
As the light played its finale,
he let go of life's calling,
watching
while the clock of time
struck...
leaving his heart wailing,
an open wound
detached from the soul.
