Ode to the Future from the Past

I held onto dreams that wouldn't be good.

Let the fester and simmer,

until they imploded.

Do we let them go?

To die with time?

Or hold onto the leftovers until they resign?

.

Wandering between the reality seen

and the vision you grew

from a nightly dream.

Foolishly grasping at the clouds like a dove

that believed the sun would shine down

and be kind to us.

.

What are you trying to do?

With all these thoughts,

these big jumps.

.

How far could I run before my heart stops?

Against the expanding.

Against the everlasting.

How long could I walk before the relentless stares standing?

All analyzing.

All expecting.

.

How can I

reach the sky

you hold so gracefully?

.

Every day, you nag to keep my mind focus

and racing.

Regardless if I pace in the dark,

and find fear inflating.

On days not created.

On moves made blinded.

Lost with no clue, no outcome.

No guidance.

.

Are you trying to unsettle us?

To forget who we made up?

There was a set idea of where we'll end stuck.

.

The plan you made is now trashed and burning!

And you have no sense

of the abilites I'm honing.

.

You're asking for more,

letting these thoughts take up my hour.

When I haven't even dreamt this big,

and you're willingly falling from the tower!

.

How far could we run before our hope dies with passion?

With the expanding.

With the everlasting.

How long can we walk before the relentless stares still standing?

All analazying.

All expecting.

How can we keep the endless sky in our hands?

.

Can't you see how far

those leftovers lasted?