Every dream held dear by man resides in the library near the river.

Brick on brick the tower rises; stoically majestic as it’s great stone parapets greet the silver-blue clouds on high.

Under its bold, weather-beaten folds lie books, shelf-over-shelf  
- each housing a single human dream.

Dreams of success, gratitude, solace, whimsicality; carefully sorted between the pages of every book.

Outside, the river holds fast; it’s current strong and swift beside the great library.

Bright blue and yellow flecks glisten in its silver waters, as it reflects the fruitful warm sun above.

Go ahead Mr. Vale, find your dreams Mr. Vale, go into the tower Mr. Vale, this is your dream Mr. Vale.

You can’t find the door Mr. Vale? There is no door Mr. Vale. You can’t get in Mr. Vale.

What’s that on your hands Mr. Vale? Make haste Mr. Vale! Wash your hands in the river’s waters.

Do you feel it Mr. Vale? Everything slowly slipping away, do you feel as if you’ve lost something Mr. Vale?

You should. You should know that the river has no water, it flows time, slowly slipping away.

The door Mr. Vale. You cannot open it, it isn’t that easy.

Sink Mr. Vale. sink into the deep and churning waters in the river of time. Soon this dream will be over and you will
discover the truth. The only way to chase your dreams is to wake up.