My dream sits in the sky

She is still a tower of remarkable beauty
The only flower for me of which I cannot pluck.
I watch from a distance with neither sorrow nor joy.
I am wounded but not defeated.
The pain lingers not into my day nor disrupts my sleep.
What ought I to feel?
What ought I to be in this dying world
That breathes in decay yet decorates its body
Unto vanity and decorum.
My dream sits in the sky
But I cannot fly to reach her
Yet she will not come to me
And if there was a ladder
She would not descend
But go ever higher as I draw nearer
To her unfathomable beauty,
She would sit with the stars
And were I to reach the stars
She would sit at the end of the universe
And await my death!

K.Oni