I know not what holds tethers and tools
It could be these dreams of mine
Or any other young man
Now I must insist you keep feeling

On my own I think of a place
One which in my heart I know to exist
Small and wet, full of life and silence
Wood and carbon it sits amongst dreams
Nestled quietly in its own space
In the windows I see her
Great brown eyes adorn her face

I cannot be the only fool to feel such things
For the immensity of intrusive each emotion brings
Regardless of foundation or sound
I shall forever search out that holy ground