Every night I dream.
It may be confusing, a blur;
I might not really remember it,
Or it may be solidly explicit,
Reassuring. It lingers on me.
But I dream every night.
Each dawn brings another story,
Another little tale of my head.
All my thoughts, my ideas, my wishes,
They get re-arranged and dance around
In a strangely well rehearsed waltz.
It can become rather vivid, real.
It can be very vague aswell, a mere
Mist of what it could've been, a vast
Cloud of sensation, image and words
That confuse me. That get a hold of me.
Every night I dream. I wonder...
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