Thin wisps of curiosity
Sprouting from the whitest lies,
Entangled them within a web
Of stories that came riding
On the wings of the eight winds.
They went with the flow
Albeit, high in delirium.
And their morals went along with them
Stranding their integrity behind
With the remnants of wishful identities.
Gasping for air
When old pains resurfaced,
They were reminded of
The numbing effects of ecstasy.
But it was too late,
To even wake up
Maybe it was only a dream,
That it never really happened.