The Death of Dreams

Remember where you were, when you heard the screams.
If you move forward, just a niche in time,
Buzzards are swarming in the night sky.
Sweltering heat on the rise,
Children starving in the street with the mark of the beast.
There are storms on the Sea of Galilee,
The second coming is near.
Why all the fear on the faces of the true believers?
It's just the rise of the King of kings,
The rebirth of their dreams.
He'll look through your eyes
And, much to your surprise, you'll be left behind
With your rituals and your prayers-
Your earthly wares, your hypocrisy.
You fools, it truly is the death of dreams.
Fall in line, only the meek ill be left behind.
The cowards are among the selected few.
Does that include you, or is your heart true?
Or stained red from the womb of humanity?
I can't see, it's the death of dreams.
I can't breathe, it's the death of dreams.
I can't breathe, it's the death of dreams.
Or, is it truly the death of me?
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I wrote "The Death of Dreams" while struggling with battling my demons. "The Death of Dreams" assisted me with finding my voice. Our dreams will only die if we let them. I pray my work will inspire everyone to reignite the fire that lives in all of us and live life to its fullest. This poem is dedicated to my mom for always believing in me, and to anyone who is or has a loved one who is an addict. May God bless us all.