HAUNTINGLY DRESSED FOR SUCCESS

Future's fated phantoms,
death masks yet to be
standing and waiting like sheep
upon a journey to never,
thoughts like vapors
from visits to wonderlands imagined
that they'll never actually see.

Hearts numbed and lethargic
by the sagging branches of impotent being
barely blossoming,
waiting in solemn hollowness
for the destined requiem of an epitaph
already written in the cold headstones
created during midnight's quill of tales.

Pulse's flowers wilted
life ebbing in the chilling reminders
of asphalt pedestals
damp from silently shed tears
holding a ticket to disillusionment
hauntingly dressed for success.