Why do all must run away?
The dream you choose is here to stay.
And all such wild, happy dream,
Be puff like smoke and putrid steam.
If blind now gone beneath the shell,
Shrug it off to say, ‘well oh well’.
Dare not throw that bastion of hope,
This urge to stay remains afloat.
But if you are what you seem to be,
That time like spears you see.
It plunge and wound so deep a scar,
The distant souls begone so far.
For the dreams, are dreams to just,
Ever to forget the things you trust.
And before the void shall take you whole,
Forgotten and lost this empty soul.