Disillusionment Up

Dispossess the sky,
Disposses the loving, the yearning
Nothing the soul holds
So close, perhaps its only friend.

One by one, it slips,
Silvery strings fly free
So thick in the air, it clears
A quick, coughing wind.

We can only look on, soon.
The pain comes, not just before
And never leaves anymore.
We reach, but never grasp,
We grab, and fall further,
We fall, and may never rise.