Wrecks of my life

Are once-great friendships really that ephemeral?

Am i really condemned by myself to lead a solitary existence?

My dreams may touch the heavens, and my boldness scorch the earth;

but my wasted heart, long a skeleton of its former self yet held but afew siniews

is nothing now, but an empty shell, a mockery of my still living being,

like an apparition as untouchable as my dreams, bold like a gnarled burnt oak against the wind...