A beautiful nightmare
Holding on to life or letting go.
All the phantoms dream of sleeping away the years.
They now know all that which I know;
I am a braindead dancer, nothing behind my ears.
People sing in groups of three or four,
Beneath the old oak tree; waiting on hidden doors.
Hanging behind them are memories.
Reminders of the shapes they used to be.
Times immortal hand still spins on a clock-face.
Taking their turn in their empty graves.
They have already gone beyond Neverland, to a beautiful place,
Where all is light, with bright blue skies,
Where children run in chase of butterflies.
In youthful good they have all lived well.
A Pleasantville life which remains unstained by sins aplenty.
They are just the chosen few; choices choose Heaven,
But where others may dwell, the hearts are empty.
They have no spirit, nor do they carry their souls;
For their afterlife has already been bought and sold.
They lived beneath the chosen word
And now their screams for salvation are never heard.
They sink into nightmares below the six feet of dirt.
A beautiful nightmare is just a story,
For the faithless people of murder and adultery.
We began as seeds and Great Oaks we became,
But one day the day will come when we all fade away.
(C)2019 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.