Some say when we dream, it is our soul exploring the world...



Beyond the mighty oak lies the lonely weeping willow

reaching for the waters of the river on my pillow

Sometimes I cry so softly in the middle of the night

hoping to die so softly in the middle of the night

Not a physical death, rather a death of the mind

to erase the dark place that is better left behind

Let sleep be my escape, precious sleep won't you come

Counting lost sheep as I await the numb

One, two, three in the morning by the hands of time

as I fade into a masquerade...the sleeping, happy mime

Now fly away, soul, far beyond this broken home

for I keep you locked away with no freedom to roam

Rise above and discover, solace is waiting to be found

Smile a smile for me, for I seldom hear that sound

Look around the world, surround yourself with joy

Let what you see become the dream of this fragile, broken boy

For a moment, for an hour, shower me with peace

Before the morning dawn I hope upon this small release

Yet in my heart I fear the things you see as you fly free

will lead you to find, even with my haunted mind, you are safer here with me...