The Escapist
Lost in his gaze
In the lights of a distant haze
He wandered along the pavements
of varied streets and walkways
in a hustle of hollow dreams
Trying to find an open gateway.
He waited for the skies to rain
But cowered before the first shower
He waited for the sun to rise
And the breeze to fiddle with the dead flowers
But at the first morning light
with crinkled eyes,laden with lies
he sealed the curtains, with a heavy sigh
He waited for the snows to melt
But he was frozen in his path
His frigid, frostbitten soul..
Unable,Unwilling..too reluctant
to seek the warmth of her kindled blaze
He didn't have a dream, just clouds of dust;
Seeking intimacy in his insatiable lust.
He made promises ,he couldn't keep.
He dreamt of a life, he couldn't live.
And in the flurry of choices ,to be made right
He choose none and walked alone into the night;
Scratching his own scar,he drifted into a limbo afar.
He was an escapist,succumb to his grief,
Too scared to love and too scarred to live.
