Prototype World
The skies are a dark, gloomy shade of grey,
Escorted by sorrowful winds that seem to blow ceaselessly.
The laments of mankind that it carries
Are drifting across this misty, unsteady wilderness.
Under the rain, I am drenched in lost innocence,
White tears flowing like a tiny stream along the silver ground.
And under the light that shines slightly from the squall,
They reflect those past memories and dreams,
My broken ideals.
With just one look at the little ray of sun amongst the storm,
With just a touch of warmth…
Will it be enough to ignite the fading flame inside me?
The distant cry that echoes into space
Grieves for a perfect protoype of the world.
Connected and framed by wires made of hope,
I fly, seeking to break the frontier of yesteryears,
To finally turn my dreams to reality.
Perhaps one day, the universe will open its eyes,
And when it does, the future will shine.
