Flying on the wings of dreams
To a castle on a mountain
High above the world

So high above that
I cannot see the world
Only clouds
And my dreams

And so my dreams become my world
And reality is just a thought…
An idea of what might be

So the world for once
Revolves around me
My thoughts, the way I see
And I am in the world
And I made my world
And I am my world
My own world

Dreams are loneliness…
With that silvery, shimmering quality
That the real world never keeps

And so I walk up the stairs
To the highest tower…
I survey the scene one last time
And then I jump.

And as I fall to reality once more
I realise that I found perfection
But perfection is cold
Perfection is lonely
Perfection is the truest fault there is.

08/22/2000

Posted on 11/04/2004
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