LOST IN DREAMS

Forlorn eyes are produced in mass destruction.
The lesser men breathe thin air that relocates itself into 
a light stream of blood.
Time and again he is lost in his sadness.
No one but she knows his pride.
The Symphony of Winter relinquishes its beauty through all 
the lesser evils.
It leaves her untouched.
Blessed.
With Jesus lying in a pool of his own blood.
Pitiful as it is, he cries the demons out of his eyes.
The angels sing to the fall of the unforgiving.
His lasting darkness simplifies a retreat.
An elapsed time warp with him reliving his own personal 
hell to the extreme.
And once again the angels sing.
Re-glorify her missing halo and rearrange his wall of coven

roses.
Hither to…no.
His betroth lacks the evil that demons do.
And then with a kiss, he awakes.
She lying there whispering comfort without opening her 
perfect mouth.
Then he glides closer to her warmth, and holds her until 
the dawn chases away the dusk.
And his forlorn eyes…
That got lost in a dream.