Illusions of grandeur
A blank canvas
Easily painted
But never completed
Several hands, brush and stroke
Half done,fragmented
The canvas cries
Never able to claim it's original name

Lost Souls
Misguided by the wisp
Promises left unfulfilled
TIme ticks
The men reap
What they seek
Left alone in the end
Misguided
Wishing it all
To repeat
Without the wisp
Without the rotting promise
That robbed,stole
Gave them false hope
A life devoid of all they once wished for