When the dreamer gets exposed to reality not only the dream dies, but the dreamer itself too.

There was a certain depth
To my love for you,
And an artificiality
To everything else.


F.Z.**N

People leave, people die.
That's the only sure thing in this world.

I often dream of running, I dream of fleeing
but every time I try to leave
they drag me back to this place they’ve deemed
reality.

I often find I’m lost in their uncertainty –
but I'm certain that I’m dying
in this place that I was never meant to
be.

The only promise is that final cry.
Time, itself, tells us each and every day.
No one, no thing in life can death defy.

When the dying springtime takes its last sigh,
Withering flowers themselves seem to say
The only promise is that final cry.

An object holds our exuberant high
Yet no sooner dulls, then passes away.
No one, no thing in life can death defy.

Certain is the fowl who will cease to fly,
Silenced by the springing of feathers’ gray.
The only promise is that final cry.

From first waking, the world presses our eye
solely to show what comes before decay.
No one, no thing in life can death defy.

Even God is unknown, yet still we try
To prove only what can be found in faith.
The only promise is that final cry.
No one, no thing in life can death defy.

Step over boundaries
and seamless shores,
through the waves of eternity,
wanting no more.

Grandeur and stillness,
guiding our sight,
leaving us breathless,
searching for light.

Beauty surrounds,
erases the stain.
Inhale the air,
free with no vain.

Cautiously certain
and casually kind,
Seeing the world,
freeing our mind.