Ah, the ambivalence of a dream,
That blesses its trespassers with the glory of thought fulfilled,
And snatches it away at the dawn of each new day.
But what of those who carry their dreams always,
Always on the brink of awakening?
To surrender to the light,
Breach the surface,
Lose the dark, silent perfection of a mind's keenest desires,
Or to live forever,
In the twilight of life --
Never fully awaking,
Breathing,
Never finding the dream to have a life all its own.

I am a dreamer,
Asleep,
Always asleep,
And yet so very weary of the very things I dream.
They never will see the light,
Never feel the rain,
Always to slumber in their sadness,
Never to know love,
Loss,
Or the hint of a life all their own.