I'll give up my dreams for things;
things I need to cycle and change,
to live another day and dream again.

New hopes,
new horizons,
new fears,
they blend.
old reveries are lost
then passed to a friend.

Hand to hand

we lose all this
to find the sandman
has given new gifts.

For one brief tick

He and I are we and us

Former meets current

And I am a god.

Shaping my purpose

on pages once his.

My dreams - his delusions.

My nightmares - his bliss.

The moment is over,

We and us come undone.

Past daydreams unravel

While future hopes run

up and up so high, so high

To the top of a mountain

Named “where reveries die”.

And he screams to the mountain

Before sliding down

“The old King’s a dreamer,

 give me the crown!!”

And now comes the twisting

that strengthens this tale

of the death of an old king

and the rise of the self,

of screams of a man

as he murdered his youth.

For on that mountain,

that mound of in-proper name;

the resting place of the king that came;

words that echo

like a tears that linger in the new lords eye;

“All though I lay dying, my dreams will survive!”

Another attempt and experimental writing on my part.....It's open season guys, I need harsh criticism on this one. I don't typically change perspective in a story so much; so any and all critiques are welcome.

Also, in contrast....I really, really need someone to take a look at "Coffee Shop Hero"  I've been trying to write stuff that makes me "uncomfortable", as I typically find inspiration there. Please, please someone take a look at that one too and give me a place to start working on it.

Thanks again!