Easy dreams are counterfeit,
evidence of lost traces,
steps embossed in faith
like footprints in red snow.
Diluted memories,
viscously mixed with regrets.  

Unctuous juice of unwound thoughts,
torturing my lonely brain.
Now transforming
unpleasant sights.
Becoming marvellous
dreams and hopes,
turning ache into utopia.  

I'm alone in this emerald land,
locked in a plastic paradise,
singing my love's oneiric tune,
but I need to understand;
heaven is real,
only when shared...