.:Where a Child Plays:.


Within the fog of every morning
Lies a man bathed in dreams.
Within the mist of every evening
Lies a woman who is not what she seems.

She is a mask of confidence
A sheild of strength and might
But to the tiny child within
She is the darkness of the night

The night that protects and hides
So that the child does not cry
It is in dreams that the child plays
Until the morning sun is nigh

Yet even in the most pleasent dreams
The child plays alone
For love is not meant to be
There is no magical throne

Butterflies do not sing
And the kittens do not talk
Through the vast gardens of time
Must the child walk

Searching for a man
That is nothing but a dream
A healer of lost souls
But the garden is not what it seems

Within it hides the truth
That there is no mythic man
And so the child waits
And alone she does stand

Because though alone in the dark
She will always hope for happiness
And her search will never stop
Because there is no end to sadness