I have often wondered
If when we dream we have blundered
Into some magical realm,
Where we have lost control of the helm.
It looks to me, that in our dreams
We are taken away from pain and screams.
From horror and fascination
To what could be the dawning of some creation.
If I could find out why,
Or maybe even try
To figure out a way
To make dreams as real as the everyday.
We would know what to do ,
And would probably increase our life by two.
Dreams have been a wonder
To every single hunger.
From fame and glory,
To the rich and poorly,
To what has seemed impossible,
To the incomprehensible.
I wish to know why we have to die,
And have this constant flow, that can make us cry.
If dreams were figured out,
Then there would be no doubt.
Everyone would be happy
And not feel as crappy.
For they would be able to control their dreams,
And they could take away the screams
Of their life and how its gone wrong
Like a crazy mixed up song.
If dreams are what we're made of,
Then let the light shine from above,
And show us what to do.
In the reality of me and you
Dreams will soon become known.
Because we will be shown
How to master their art
And make it easier to part
From what we live in day to day
To what we dream of and pray.
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