Forgotten Dreams

A forgotten piece of Art.
Forged in your dreams,
Built up in your sleep,
But in the morning gone.

Recollection will not help,
You burned it,
In the rays
Of the rising sun.

Your fingers,
Covered in grease and oil,
Cannot grip the solid form
Of the gaseous construct.

Still though,
As if you were immortal,
You think on it,
Trying to summon it back.

Will it be the same?
The masterpiece
Of which you have dreamt
Unwillingly?

Or some fierce beast,
Changed and mutated,
Since body goes to ash,
But can ash do the same?

For future purpose,
A large stone block,
And masonry’s tools,
Wait beside your bed.

In case it will return,
The hunting, the dream,
So that this time
It will not escape.