THE END OF THE DREAM

THE END OF THE DREAM

As the sun peeps out

over misty morning hills

and the dawn chorus calls

with its piercing shrill,

the demons of the night

fade slowly to grey,

with a sidelong glance

at the few that got away.

 

He rises and stretches

and with sleepy eyes,

breathes a sigh of relief

and a laughing surprise.

The nightmare lingers

in his foggy mind

until a final shiver

leaves the shadows behind.

 

He opens the curtains

and bathes in the sun,

the heat of all life;

a new day begun.

Out in the garden

playful squirrels flee,

across the lawn

and up into the trees.

 

A breath of fresh

and life giving air,

the trickling brook

near the fox’s lair.

The sighing sounds

from the tallest trees

as the leaves are rustled

by the morning breeze.

 

He stares out in wonder

at the glorious scene

as a Blackbird serenades

the woman of its dreams.

But beyond his control

and outside of his will

the doubts creep back in

with a slow stealthy chill.

 

Why must there be

so much pain in the world;

such hate and division

as the colours unfurl?

There’s so much to see,

to feel and to love,

from the ground at our feet

to the skies up above.

 

When did mankind

lose the will to live;

to help one another;

to share; to give;

to feel compassion

for sisters & brothers,

for family; for kinfolk;

for any and all others?

 

Do we no longer care

for the ones who surround,

ignoring their pleas

and heart-breaking sounds?

When did we lose

the ability to be

the ones to help

the persecuted, flee?

 

Defend the weak,

the young and old.

When did our hearts

stop caring; grow cold?

We are born to this world

as equal souls,

before slowly sinking

down a hate-filled hole.

 

Us and them;

must it always be,

does the time draw near

when we all have to flee?

The land of the free

is in shackles & chains,

they’ve sold us all

down the desolate drains.

 

With a sigh of resignation

he shrugs and turns away,

the dawn is dying;

the skies turning grey.

A dark storm approaching

from the distant horizon,

is it the tumult of death

and dangerous division?

 

There’s a wave of despair

that is too hard to fight,

its better to sleep through

the oncoming night

so behind damp eyes

he retreats and hides,

as the shadows return

where the demons reside.

 

Beyond the panes,

the sky turns to coal,

The Reaper is laughing,

collecting his souls.

A bountiful harvest

for the gates of hell,

yet there, in the distance,

the toll of a bell?

 

 

Written by Darren Scanlon, 23rd August 2014.

Revised 13th July 2015.

©2014 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.

COPYWRITE IMAGE

#BlogBattle

 

25 Comments Add yours

  1. Wonderful, thanks for the link to your #BlogBattle entry Darren. 🙂

    Like

  2. Annie B says:

    W

    Like

  3. Annie B says:

    Wow is what I wanted to say before my iPad rebelled. This is fabulous, Darren❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Those pesky iPads…I know them well 😂. Thanks Annie.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. joylennick says:

    You summed up the hate and feeling of doom succinctly, as usual. We must all listen out for the peace bell…..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. There is always hope, Joy, however small. 😊

      Like

  5. sevoiland says:

    So many sad questions…I imagine most of us have these desolate questions, we just do not post them so eloquently and with such passion. Thank you again for making me THINK.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thankyou my friend.

      Like

  6. This is quite heavy, but liked.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I like heavy, Michael. Plenty to get my teeth into. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Which you surely did and didn’t let it go!! HAHAHA! It is brilliant! 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      2. You are most welcomed.

        Like

  7. Escape the nightmare to hide in the nightmare? It’s dark but poignant. 🙂 Love that you’re back! Love your story telling.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Rachael, great to be back. Keep smiling 😊

      Liked by 1 person

    2. The lesser of two evils…? But which is it…?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Such a difficult question. Hiding in our dreams, no matter how ugly those are, is still easier to take than living in the nightmares of the world. That being said, it solves nothing for oneself and does nothing to aid our fellow man. Standing up and helping, even in small ways, is better than hiding. Not sure if that answers the question, though! 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I think we must each find our own answers and hopefully we can unite to win back our lives?

        Liked by 1 person

      3. What if our own answers are at odds? That’s the question which becomes difficult to answer.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. The truth will always out eventually, Rachael, and the truth is incontrovertible whether stated by 1 person or 1,000,000 people. Time will tell I suppose. 😊

        Liked by 1 person

  8. Wonderful. I loved the story, the ebb and flow, and the dark, mysterious quality to the piece. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks very much 😊

      Liked by 1 person

      1. My pleasure 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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