I've sauntered upon valleys of emerald grass--
but my head, the object of dismal reality--
and I've always imagined it greener.
though I've seen pools against a diamond sky--
covered in crystals, singing enchantments--
but I've always imagined nymphs with waterfalls.
and maybe it was a blissful mirage,
a shimmering delusion in grand schemes,
another inkling of a paradise lost,
but they're never anything like I seem to dream.
yet, still, all the silver and gold to buy
all the peaks so as to kiss each horizon
for that, I would risk it all
for I've always imagined it greener,
what an addiction, I cannot break.