Of the dream

I am what I dream.
My dream is what I am.
It lurks in me,
it wants to be free.
dream wants to be reality.

As the dust he’s blown
in the winds of reality.
But he’s not controlled.
He has a mind of his own.
He has a reality of his own.

I want to be my dream.
I want to become reality.
I do not wish of eternity in heaven.
I only wish of mortality in my dream.
In my dream, in my sanctuary.

My dream is what it is,
a song of the God.
Song that God sang in creation of us.
An utopia that was meant for us.
Not forever, but for life.

I only wish it to come true,
to become more than shadow,
to become something that doesn’t follow,
to become a life of his own,
a life without other.

Is it too much to ask,
to live my dream.
I do not wish blessings of forever,
I only wish to thread with my dreams,
to be that song in which melody my dream is played.

Each note is my wish,
each melody is my feeling.
In my dream I love,
In it I am loved
In it I am ME.
In it I am what I’m supposed to be,
what I’m created to be.

I am what I dream,
and I dream what I am,
In it I am ME,
I just want to set it free.
Back I want my wings
so I can roam silently.