The Dreamwalker
Was it yet another dream this night?
Or was it just a pattern
somewhere inside my mind,
reminding me of another time and place?
we come from diff'rent times
we come from diff'rent places
to spend our brief delights
and passions, sorrows, pains
upon this soil of pleasure
yet mortals envy us
'cos nothing in our eyes
reminds them of their own
delights and pains
reflections in our eyes
are obscure shades
but we just keep them
here
upon this soil of pleasure
we linger here, but
the memories in our minds
retain the pictures
that we've seen
in other times and places
the drift, the dream, the course
the aimless course of passion
we live among the ghosts
encompassed by their faith
and deeds, and false delights
they come here just to pass
away with time
like autumn leaves in dying season
still lives they live are something bigger
than we know
still dreams we have
through nights and days
are guiding us
not to this soil of pleasure
but
into the times and places
that we have known long before
we met this world of mortals
this mystery is holding us
inside the shells of mortals
we long to know
all unrevealed to us
but nothing is made known
we drift alone
between the worlds
unwilling to be here
reluctant to give up
our other times and places
the endless dream
enfolding us
entwining us with senses
scents and pictures
is real even here
upon this soil of pleasure