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The Imagination

Updated on May 8, 2010


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.  


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