Ambition

My bones grow weak
fragile with aimless thoughts
of the future horrors that await.
I can't help but shudder
to the dreams of yesterday.
There's no way to go back,
no way to escape
into that fantasy which filled my mind.
Imagination grows weak,
and originality seems to fade.
I can't do anymore
but to cry in the dark,
hoping that my faith
will return to my daydream.
Life is so dull without
those unreachable goals,
but I'm tired of this chase.