If tender hearts unfolded wings,
what breeze would light our choices.
We'd fall on high into the sky,
and watch as day rejoices.

No scaly soul, or fears unrolled,
or claws which tend our fears.
No age old fire, burning mind so dire,
to grow us aged before our years.

So fly on high, my earthly friend,
unto the moon and back.
Climb towers broad, and breeze which flowed
and watch our evils crack.

Our darkness fades,  whilst in the glades
of evening we do wander.
We see the walls, the wholesome falls,
and stop to let our minds ponder.

If we were a dragon, oh just imagine,
what boundaries we could climb.
But it's all such a waste, for inside our dreams,
our fantasy belongs only in rhyme.