Prognosis of Prosperity

All that time conceals, continues to haunt me, and all of my ideals, no longer want me. I often go for walks, beneath these gloomy skies. I often shed a tear or two, if I can open up my eyes. Prognosis of prosperity is looking at me, glum. I want to call for clarity, but i’m finding my voice dumb. I turn slowly with alarm. More faces in the sky! Grandiosity bows with grace, it waits for my reply. I blink and now it’s gone. I‘ve said neither yes nor no. But tomorrow at dawn, I’ll go walking to and fro Till the faces in the sky offer me my dreams from which I will wake knowing all that gleams is vanity. And all the faces promise is insanity.