Are tomorrow's dreams simply yesterday's lies?
Fragments of imagination, and lives led; scattered amidst a jigsaw of hello's and goodbyes.
Oh Gods, what terror can surpass the madness of imagination corrupted?
Entranced by hostility, and bound by a path creeping toward horizons disrupted.

May the dreams of yesterday be washed from reality by tomorrow's lies?
Banished from sandy beaches where they lay carved, vulnerable to changing tides.

Oh dreams, mold me motionless in white purity,
A figure upon the shore reborn into reality.
Lay me down as waves wash yesterday's lies,
Cleansing the battered fragments of hello's and goodbyes.
Let those waves shape tomorrow's dreams;
Let them flow with the grace of treasured streams,
As the clock collapses from conscious reality,
Melting into a realm of timeless obscurity.