The Imagination
Dreaming
Dreams are contagious
Conceiving and bearing
Ripples with reason.
Only believers in death will die.
Embrace a new sort of pain.
It might be pleasant to live for something.
At least something needs you.
Push your soul on me
And your smile,
I want you to find me.
Crowed me deep into your space.
Push your pain on me,
It will soon be gone.
Dreams will cleanse them away
And illusions will bend
By the sparks of your thoughts.
Dreams make me part of your dreams.
I am revealed by dreams.
Dusty mind
Words of dust from other worlds, motion without progression, mixed equaly they please the mind. My feeble spirit stays out of sight.
