The Halls of Lost Conceptions 




My thoughts soon
Turn to inquiries
As I chance upon
An ageless corridor
Of somber dreams
And idled portions; 

Had contemplation
Only aspired this far? 

And the driving forces 
Which had ultimately
Quelled the waves
Of idealism;

Had they been critical
Or circumstantial?

As I ferret through
The lost aspirations
Of ancient conceptions.

Optimism would 
Endeavor its quest 
 For a hallmark
That may be
 Evidentiary to
The verve
Of ambition; 

Thus encircling
The mind as to
Discover a creative 
Door or passage
That may yet flow
To some long
Forgotten influx 

Which stream's
Course runs
To the River
Of Possibility 
Whose channels
 Pour reverie
Into the Sea
Of Probability;

Yet, when such
Inferential hope
Remains elusive
And quasi dreams; 

Are detected
And reflected
And seas
Are rejected;  

Then you have been
Inducted into the
Halls of Lost Conceptions.

And it is here
 Where dreams 
Find complacency

And aspiration
Through deviation
 Becomes a misnomer
And is appropriated
To be a sad kismet
That forever haunts
The ageless corridors
Of somber dreams
And idled portions.

And if optimism 
Were to gaze 
Upon this destiny
It should embrace,
 And ultimately
 Settle upon the
Contingency
Of a proverbial 
Cross roads; 

For 'tis better
To compromise
Than to relinquish
Your choices.