If perhaps dreams weren't so surreal
I could find happiness in them
but dreams are only a mixture of colors and sounds,
jumbled images fused together to create
a want
a need
a desire.
Dreams are filled with a hope hopelessly lost
bound together like a bundle of beautiful flowers.
They are fairly pretty to look upon
but their existence is ever waning
growing
changing
disappearing.
The after-thoughts of dreams inspire more
inventing new places, new things, new wants
and though they cease to be after time
still they carry on, unseen forces blown on the wind.
One dream may be an illusion now
but it has all the power to become real
and cease to be just a dream...