Drinking sweet nectar from the flow of a stream
Rose petals flying in a whirlwind around me
Totally oblivious to the reality that I stand, yet escape
Until a hand touches my shoulder, beckoning me to awake
Sorry to disturb you, a voice speaks unto me
As my eyes, regain their focus, on reality
Standing before me with eyes wanting to know
A soul with desire, that wants to go where I roam
I have been searching for you Wordsmith, the voice speaks unto me
Please take me with you, in your journey of dreams
I hear you can create, Castles made of gold
Make miseries disappear, as if they never unfold
I seek your gift, I want to escape
Grace me with your dreams, take me away..
I speak aloud; a gift you say?
Not all the places I dream, are what you may call safe
At times, I walk amongst the fires of hell
Over shading the innocence, of a mind I do tell
Not all Castles are made of gold, as you imagine, you see..
Some are made of black coal that houses doom, you will want to flee
Some call it a gift, I call it a curse
My dreams have no boundaries, in my made up worlds
They can stroke the heavens above
Or cast a darkened shadow that even demons do fear
If you dare to join me, I will gladly take you there
I forewarn you my companion, this trip can change it’s coarse within’ a blink of an eye
Joy in one instance, then demise can be your lullaby
Therefore, if you wish to travel the road the Wordsmith does take
It can be a gift and a curse, without no kind of escape
Lisa ‘09
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