At the End of the Dream

In fields of moonlight, where shadows danced,

I wove a world of vibrant trance.

Castles of cloud, on wispy air,

Hope's melody, a whispered prayer.

Emerald meadows, bathed in dawn's glow,

Where rivers of laughter, forever did flow.

Friends with wings, and voices of light,

Chased away darkness, with joyous flight.

Time, a playful butterfly, flitted by,

Untouched by burdens, beneath a painted sky.

Mountains of wishes, beckoned to climb,

In this dreamland haven, forever sublime.

But whispers of doubt, like whispers of rain,

Fell on the castle, blurring the pane.

The laughter of friends, a fading chime,

Lost in the echoes, of relentless time.

Flowers of joy, began to wilt,

As the dream's fabric, started to tilt.

The vibrant colors, bled into gray,

Sunlight retreated, replaced by the day.

The once sturdy walls, crumbled to dust,

Leaving a void, filled with hollow disgust.

The friends with wings, vanished like smoke,

Their joyous flight, a heartbreaking joke.

The meadows of laughter, turned to a mire,

Where dreams once danced, set the soul on fire.

The rivers of memory, ran dry and slow,

Leaving behind, a chilling afterglow.

Waking to harsh reality's bite,

The remnants of dream, a fading light.

A gasp escapes, a tear rolls down,

The beautiful haven, no longer to be found.

But wait, a glimmer, a sliver of gold,

A spark of the dream, a story untold.

Though the world may be broken, and colors may fade,

The echoes of joy, can still be remade.

For dreams, though fleeting, leave whispers behind,

A yearning for beauty, a map for the mind.

The lessons they teach, of laughter and light,

Can guide us awake, to a future more bright.

The friends with wings, may not be in sight,

But kindness and courage, can take us to flight.

The laughter of joy, may fade with the dawn,

But humor and hope, can still carry us on.

The meadows may wither, and castles may fall,

But resilience will rise, to conquer it all.

For even in waking, we hold the key,

To rebuild the dream, in reality.

The end of the dream, is not the end of all,

But a turning point, where dreams answer the call.

To weave a new world, with threads of our own,

Where beauty and laughter, are truly our own.

So let the tears dry, and the heart mend and mend,

For with every ending, a new story can begin.

We'll carry the lessons, the dreams and the light,

And build a new haven, bathed in morning's light.