Let us speak of dreams.
The need for them, the fear of them.
Yet dreams, be they truth or imagined falsehood.
Do some lead us astray from the realities of our lives,
or reveal the anguishes of our souls.
A terror in the night, preventing us from flight,
or a cleansing of the mind, so in the
morn we may face ourselves.
What then of dreams, of the flight up high,
or demon tearing us, what more are they.
A method of understanding, or peace.
Of a life or duty unknown in waking,
or perhaps mere slumber, a pause in life.
What then is a dream,
what then can it not be?
~~Fiddler 01/16/2002
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