| Child By: Nessa Misty warm fire inside The cold prison of your dreams. Small, fisted hand, child, You'd chase anything. Dream slow... Illusion of your conjured dreams Like a fog bright in this dark -- Small-minded, eternal belief, child, Like your small beating heart. Dream slow... Blinking like a gullible fool Whose world came crashing down When you face the delusion of your dreams -- What will you do now? Oh child of eternal faith, And ever-lasting belief, Now old and scarred and dead within, What happened to your dreams? BACK |