Bare bones in paradise

A kingdom of glass, of lightning-flame forged

in towering ascension

Hauntingly flickering, as a rock-solid specter

from wayward dimensions

Translucent spires with spear-cutting peaks

and tinged with red

Flying buttresses mounted astride earthy dark

in this home of the dead

Death whispering soft, cold air rushing past

in unseen icy streams

Luring us deeper into the velvet abyss

of unrested dreams

Kingdom and castle, buttress and spire,

ever-growing in size

Feeding on life-blood of unborn ambition

unto its very demise

Dreams be alive and live to be murdered

in an agony of neglect

Glass kingdoms blooming on the dry, bleached bones

of a dreamer-elect

Fragile yet strong, remaining vast unbroken

though pierced through

by beaten bloody fists of one suffering soul

ever and anew

A ruby streaked tower, beautiful, terrible,

a reminder to say

A dreamer may dream by night, but we claim

his dream for the day.