In a dream,
My inner self does toil.
Passing on to fade,
They work to please my mind.
Where my heart grows weak,
My thoughts grow true.
Holding on
Or passing through,
I am my moon,
Or my sky of black.
These are my dreams,
Looking for a place to rest.
In my head
Or in my sleep,
These are the moments,
I think I'd like to keep.
