The Treasure Chest

At first you used it properly.

It was the storehouse for dreams and vision.

Innocence lay undisturbed, unaware of the shadows creeping at the edges.

But then life happened.

Mercilessly modifying it from treasury to vault,

A locked box.

The dreams were smothered beneath a cobweb of dejection,

Desperate for release,

For light.

And stacked beneath the cares and worries of the world

They lay forgotten,

 A memory of a lifetime ago.

The chest grew rusty and aged from lack of use,

Its once radiant exterior growing dull.

 Its true intent fading into the furthest corners of the mind.

Yet desire echoed out her voice,

Begging to be heard,

To be remembered.

And the locks wrapped round the box were loosed,

Unveiling the intention, the purpose.

Original design too powerful to destroy