Lost

So trust ends Doors close, memory rots and turns all shades dark the tunnel lengthens the light at the end fades the journey turns around, alone, impoverished the sails collapse the wind splutters and twists a feeble, whining blub unworthy of joy and dignity; lost. Lovely dreams are filed away, hopes fall behind the cupboard, we tiptoe through the dust; colours dull and tastes become bland dancing has no pleasure no more no more a lonely lane ahead for each drizzle, sodden feet and cold setting in. Yet stand, sprout, see Another day, another me You, beloved still, and we are free.