The Death of a Dream

The Death of a Dream short poem

Yesterday, my dream died

Perhaps it could have survived

But your piercing words proved fatal

and it lost the battle

Now I am mourning

for the loss of my only friend

who took care of my hopes

my torn wishes, who used to mend

Forlorn and forsaken

I yearn for his company

but he is nowhere to be seen

may be this is called destiny…

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

3 Comments on "The Death of a Dream"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Editorial Board

Sad and poignant!

Reyvrex Questor Reyes

Words are more nastier than swords. A flesh wound heals, but a wound in the heart could not. How could it when it can’t be found, only felt.

asoke kumar mitra

very heart wrenching write. but very nice expression.


Flickering Dream

Flickering Dream short poem

It was your integrity at the time of ubiquitous pain of separation, you want to move the home away from home coming to terms with the trauma your shadow was not following you playing dead nuzzling the earth, racing to

Death In Exile

Death In Exile short poem

He had pulled in many springs but failed to find a heaven. Asked not to look away. In absences he tried to enter the wounds again. An aboriginal pain flies over my shoulder. A spiritual failure of mankind? Counting unctuously

Away From My Fears Is The Day I Dream

Away From My Fears Is The Day I Dream long poem

“Away from my fears is the day I dream, a place where eternal happiness awaits for me. Where no pains exist, no one could hurt me. I could breathe the way I want without losing my identity. A place so

Death Of A Godman

Death Of A Godman short poem

I have agreed to cede an unwritten moon in a killing frenzy, for a chequered spirituality. Now visitation will start ravishing the light at dawn. The grievers will assemble for a final scoop of dust. Forgive my star, for a

Death And Vision

Death And Vision short poem

The doubters will cross the coals after the raid. Apology will not be in attendance. Sitting on the throne of cold blooded assassination, do you think justice demands the revenge? Whom you are killing, the body or the spirit? Heads