Drifting from dreams

Back when
all that laid ahead
were the unheard
tales of time
tensely twirling
towards tomorrow.
Where our
hollow heedless
heads of hope
would wistfully
follow .
Still strumming
out their
stammering
starless streams
of desolate
undecided
dreams .
Then bashfully
burn out
into blackened
bittersweet
beams of
belittlement.