Fantasy, a tell-tale untold

Which we thought was a surreal dream,

A serendipity of the mind

And a gift, once was sought.

It was a palette of colors;

Vibrant, lenient and free

But all has lost, all has died.

Tainted on a fierce jealousy of reality.

Black and white with nothing to see.

And it’s flowing, overflowing,

A stream, forever unchanging

In the darkness of a sinful world.