PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Dreamed of you the other night you sold my face,
Replaced it with some golden mask.
Looking around all I see is bleeding gods
And woe filled sailors.
Cold and relentless we move with swift intentions,
Not meeting paths for hundreds of years.
Talons of lesser beasts latch into the side of my face
A reminder of days that past.
You promised me you would take me back there someday.
Maybe it has been the time that past
But I believe it no longer exists.
I don’t even recognize me,
With this distant heart.
Just a golden faced boy,
You’re just a bohemian nightmare.