when dreams die

I paint my hopes into nightmarish skies
not tough enough, though difficult,
when a dream, dies.....

I take the strokes with my heart's brush
not worthy enough, though priceless,
as my tearful eyes blush....

I stretch my arms making your world within
not tired enough, though weak,
i search my soul therein....

I picture effortlessly the serene beautiful sunrise
not shining enough, though glorious,
through which your memories arise...

I scamper the colour of those innocent eyes
not blameless enough, though angelic,
in which my whole life lies....

I shall paint for you alone, those celestial skies
not enchanting enough, though sublime,
there shall I watch, as my dream dies...