Dreams? What are they?
Easily accumulated.
A little gateway, potential fragile lines of fate.
Turning us into fixated slaves.

As months and days are passing, we set goals to achieve and succeed.
But in reality how much do we complete?
Claim to be so busy with the things inside our zone.
But deep inside we long for something special of our own.

The same four walls, a deplorable state of pitfalls.
Lost in our comfort zones…
Turning us into clones.
Let the water fall they say,
“Someday it will be a giveaway.”
But the truth is…
It doesn’t work that way.

Name of emotions called the Menace.
Only to reminisce on the life we call a sentence.
“A hurricane…why couldn’t it be?”
Felt it resonate. Like a sting of a bee.
Clickbait. Not an epiphany.
More like a heartache, and uncertain agony.

I wrote this as my first dark poem and strictly for fun!
Just wanting to try different style and types of writing- hope you enjoyed.
Message your thoughts! – M.