"Clinging to a Dream"

i can see her,

coming in and

out of focus,

fading away.

i grab on and

cling to her skirt,

fluttering about.

she's smiling but

fading away.

my gal friday,

i lament her,

galatea.

buried in the

sands of daylight:

reality.

if this is my

awakening

then why do i

still want to dream

of beloved

galatea?

and i see her

companion,

lying headless,

an object of

my mockery

once and long past.

it's bitter now,

and i am the

one that is mocked.

i remember

the words upon

his pedestal:

"I am Ozymandias, King of Kings! Look upon my works ye mighty, and despair!"

the glorious

day beckons to

me. attrition

wins.