And so steps the dreamer into uncharted seas, his heart is kept in passion
lest his soul does freeze, black clouds form an angry face on her event
horizon, the warrior balks and finds retreat the innocent dove just flies in.
The dreamers free from knowing, the hardened yoke of life, lost in the
rivers flowing, the emperor and his wife, the night just longs to find, it’s
morning sweet and clear, the night’s most innocent mind, the moon it’s
only fear, aloft upon this feather, in threads of cloud and rain, indifferent
to life’s weather, indifferent to life’s pain, in the body of the burning, lives
the spirit of the flame, experience in it’s yearning, innocence is so the
And so steps the dreamer into his trusted dreams, where all is as it
should be where all is as it seems, but the winds just blow at random the
winds blow at there ease, and dreams just speak in tongues dreams say
what they please.
And so goes true colors melting into white, the sunrise and the morning
star were just a trick of light, and who would have thought we could find
it a map to lead the way, but the soul compass still cannot find true north
with the mind’s magnet holding sway.