Tender dreams seek the wanderer's footsteps hidden by all humanity has been denied, all that tis soulless as those without essence's kiss

The pebble that guides the stream
yet cannot follow is whispered upon as beauty, the beauty that is man's desire to be shadowed by which the lonely’s bathe that is their sorrow

Hair of amber falls that whisper of horny thought, sweet honey, and power, stroke the breeze as lotus petals fall, soon withering and with them the very thought of thought hailed as the raven’s cry of dreams

Consciousness fades under a shifting sky of darkened times, holding within empty arms the white mistress and red master, desiring purpose bestowed by the being of being, the truth of wanderers that sees what others cannot, man

The growing oak desires proof of its purpose, yet it is lost in the trees (so humans think), for not even a glimpse pierced the blackened sky

Eternity is the landscape appealing to its conquers who wander the path of lies dictated by the self’s fear of greatness and failure that is the (from my blood’s perspective) inescapable maze (horizontally)

Her mind, revealed the absurd notion of time, space, and possibility

Thought crafted as an understanding hidden from the realm of truth despite being the bearer of it, as though the big dipper is the bearer of drink

The landscape that is of beauty, crafted by the desire of man, sent through time's relative path, but lost in the catacombs below

Melody of ancient clock, shrouding children (from their fears) within ticking urgency of innocence and ignorance (as one) lost

Leaves of the angel, silk, and honey, fall upon the shepherd that is the sheep that is man is to god as god is to the self

Misty fields of forgotten plains echoing songs of forgotten pains as stories passed through eternity

Timeless tales of lands lost, held by man as the hilt, counter to the sterling silver blade of spoken that cuts as words are formed

Stars shine upon the children they see as pearls, pearls of such brilliance the light is reflected into the pool of dreams that is the moon

As the sunrise awakens, we are cast into the world as shadows and, by desire’s will, we create purpose, arrogance, truth, beauty, all that matters, all that we see, all that man is in the frame of a dream of she