To be true to myself is to not lose sight of that which makes me
What makes me passionate?
Of things that may or may not happen.
But at least I have my dreams
And no one can take them from me
For they are mine...from my soul...and a true necessity
of my being.
Yes. I have known joy
And I have known grief
But throughout I have always tried to know me.
My dreams are who I am
For they are what I think...and what I believe
And what may never be.
But at least I have my dreams.
I often wonder
Can one be...
Without any dreams?
True feelings of desolate
Hidden behind the fašade of a smile
Which is easily performed for an audience of strangers
Who show nothing more than looks of fear and
Lost in their transparent gazes
His heart aches with pains of sorrow and despair
And wonders...why, must life be so unfair?
And he's left to live a life of confinement
Of which he tries to convince himself
To be the solace he
But his heart knows better than his mind
Of his true wishes of a peace
Which he will continue to deny himself
As a punishment for events already passed...
And events not yet seen.
And he will live a destiny
That is not what it should be
Filled with too much pain and regret
Over a life that should have been
And then one day
Across the vast sea of anonymity he sees
And she gives him the warm smile
Of a flame defiantly burning against the
Which afflict him.
And he realizes...
There is another one
Just like he.
His twin flame
Refusing to let the others keep her away
From her dreams
Of the heights above
And the things that will be hers
And so he is given inspiration and
The walls which confine him
Are not really