Lords and Ladies dancing on my dreams,

Tread carefully; the flowerbed you're trampling is not all it seems,

Rays of glorious sunshine drift down in their lazy beams,

The garden of my mind, oh how it shines and gleams,

A supple sound masked in subtlety,

Drifts across the land freely,

A noise no-one can see,

Trapped in a place within me,

Children sing songs of cheery hilarity,

Pure songs that echo sacred clarity,

In an endless tune not burdened by approaching finality,

Or the vile grasp of this passing reality,

10,000 miles up in the sky,

I cannot reach it, as it is too high,

To get there I'd need to fly,

Instead I just sit here below and sigh,

An Eden-like garden so pure,

Yet this macabre existence I must endure,

It just doesn't seem fair,

A paradise within me and yet I will never get there,

It's a wonderful place,

And I host it gladly,

But I sit here below,

And long for it sadly.

RATE THIS CHAPTER!