I dreamt of an orchard where the autumn leaves fall,
And the breeze that carries them away.
Where out ghosts run wild, fed to be free,
Hand in hand in the ocean’s spray.

Dreaming of the day we vanish with no trace;
The sun swells the desiccated grass,
And the smell of that fresh ocean’s air
Exhalts towards freedom at last.

Fearing the notion of inevitability;
The knowledge of having to wake up.
Promise me that: if we do what we choose,
Then we will choose to never give up,

On our disregard, as we prance through the yard.
Through the abruption my words become clear,
That our subservient minds become fundamental,
And that Utopia is all up in here.

She's like thoughts exhaled through the mouth,
Within her breath exhalts the power of life and death;
That she can heal and also hurt is a fact no doubt,
And once spoken she forever exist and never will fret;
As life and spirit even in realms beyond this earth.

Thus, bridle your tongue lest she spits out fire,
Too monsterous to quench over your convicted soul;
Instead before you speak think twice and aspire,
That all your words be seasoned with salt as a whole;
To bless and never to curse should be your goal.