What are dreams?

Broken shards of unfulfilled hope?

A dealer with an empty bag of dope?

Remnants of longed for lifestyles?

The gap along unwanted aisles?

What exactly are dreams?

A blur of shattered imagination?

A squiggle of smudged reflection?

The wings of a squashed mosquito once fit for flight?

Between day and day is there no longer night?

Where are my dreams?

So, if a dream is supposed to be positive, why does a nightmare grow from good news?

Will joyous elation ready for skews?

Is good news a mask for darkness?

Are all answers but a wild guess?

What makes dreams?

Is the craved mountain peak eternally too far to reach?

Is the hourglass open like that of a beach?

Do dawn and dusk merge as one?

Which silent bell tolls for the gone?

So, what are dreams?