Yes, I have dreams.
Dreams hungering and thirsting,
truly seeking fulfillment.
Often they leave me gasping,
gasping for air in the night.
Sleep isn't the only place dreams huddle.
Sometimes they linger at the edge of my consciousness.
Seeking opportunities to expose my inabilities,
not allowing me to achieve even the simplest of fancies.
Cruel reminders of inadequacies perhaps.
I've allowed them to plant misery
deep within the chasms of my mind.
Letting them snuff out life gradually,
so slyly, so masterfully, until only an ember remains.
"These passions of dreams my friends, what have they wrought?"