Less Than

Stars dim to a faint glow, the gorgeous twinkle in their bodies has dies down and the angelic shine I found so interesting has lost value.

The love I held in the roses so sweet has turned bitter cold, like the dreaded winter morns, and the vibrant colors that took my youthful eyes by surprise each time has muted and hushed as the warmth I once had draws to an end.

Even the joys I par took of as a young child, have turned to sweet memories of nothingness. Laughter on the day so fair, now silenced to a whisper. My small world I thought so grand turned black and white within. As my eyes become less youthful and less innocent the colors in the world I once saw in everything has began to fade to nothing. 
Less than a sweet memory, less than a beautiful dream.