To think, a thousand worlds can collapse upon me in yet another day dream,
I believe I've imagined you so many times,
A mere silhouette, dancing and crying upon countless backdrops,
You have become an ever constant inspiration,
A butterfly, much more like a moth,
Eating away at the sheets that keep an unimportant sanity intact,
Will I ever come back to you?
A clock can say an infinite many things, and it can tell so many more,
So I listen, and your memories that I may barely touch,
Will always be in words touching a grey scale sunset,
The value in that, is however a thought makes it out to be,
Upon your dreams, I hope a moonlit sky might leave many footsteps,
So seeing, where they went, you'll see where they came from and where they got,
Follow dancing feet, and sing with lines that give root to ancient trees,
And beautiful fruit that make us all forget about the rest,
Will keep us in remembrance of you.