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The
moonlight bends and curves, Dancing
on the winds it swerves. Falling
onward ever toward me, Shining
bright that I may see. There
I stand, upon my dreams, In
that place where everything it seems, Is
real as all the rest of the world. Then
I awake and am quickly hurled, Back
again to reality, Yet
never more to sanity. For
visions seen often become, Visions
left for all or some. My
visions though, will all come true, Then
each will be a much brighter hue. For
you see, reality is not what it seems, For
reality was originally just dreams. Someone
wished and fought and tried, Truly
maybe even died, To
make for me and you, What
we now see as true. Therefore,
take not reality for granted,
Yet strive always for your wish to be granted.
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