Uniformity

Night is the same:
the dream disconnecting.
A stop-light of thought,
an errant hope.

Dreams are the same:
the possibility withering.
A corrupted fantasy,
idealism blistering.

Youth is the same:
the impossible infinity.
A renegade heart,
imploding dignity.

Love is the same:
the cyclic mendacity.
A perfumed tongue,
rotting sincerity.

The tethering
nocturnal phantoms
bountifully scar.