a dream that is now muted and can longer hear

as moonlight sonata plays solemnly in a faded background
all i can think about are morbid pictures of lost times
lost dreams casted into a foggy swamp
the mist being the last bit of hope we all used to cling on to
a silent film of what used to be a boisterous movie of creativity
that once used to be in tchnicolor is now seen through sepia eyes