From atop my palace of dreams, I continue to believe that you're still in love with me.
That it's only a matter of time before you see the error of your ways, and grow tired of the games people play.
I hold on to the memories of our yesterdays, and question whether you'll ever come back to me.
"One day soon", I pray with trepidation and angst.
My possessive heart wants to believe that your possessive mind's still clinging to the possibility of reconciliation. 'Cause how can it not be when the well of passion's intimacy hasn't fallen into the abyss of lost hope?
But, as my grip squeezes tighter, your actions strike harder warning, "This is over- we can't go on like this."
And all of the years of building towers and loving wilder have given way to trembling voices and dying screams.
And the broken record repeats again and again in my frenzied mind like the slow dripping of time in the torture chambers of my soul.
So, I cry out to God and beg to be relieved of this endless cycle of shame.
I want to return to the sky and transform this sorrow into glittering showers of rain, but my finger won't let me pull the trigger.
So I crash down with every goodbye and smash every clock that I can't rewind, to bury once and for all the void of your missing love. 'Cause my optimism's slowly losing sound, fears are quickly gaining new ground, and my breath's growing weary of my loss' shadow.
So while I continue to crawl and I climb, still search and I find- my Castle of Illusions refuses to escape me.
© CRIS GUNTHER