Squirt
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2000
- Messages
- 2,899
Holding your hand,
Walking along the long pathway that lies ahead
Covered in daisy flowers and
Lined by poppies,
Rich and rosy, the color of the fiery sunset,
Hovering over the wispy, fluffy clouds of
My dreams,
Floating over the rolling hills,
Through the light, dusty purple mist
Coating every surface,
Morning dew clinging to the tip of each
Blade of grass
Residually left over from the morning before,
Scents of wisteria and yellow jasmine that
Blanket the world;
Still holding your hand,
Only letting go to pick a flower and hand it to you,
Lost in the blissful void of the
Never-never land of
My dreams,
Where nothing and nobody else exists or matters;
Yet upon opening my eyes, I realize
This is not a dream.
Is it possible for reality to be so surreal?
Walking along the long pathway that lies ahead
Covered in daisy flowers and
Lined by poppies,
Rich and rosy, the color of the fiery sunset,
Hovering over the wispy, fluffy clouds of
My dreams,
Floating over the rolling hills,
Through the light, dusty purple mist
Coating every surface,
Morning dew clinging to the tip of each
Blade of grass
Residually left over from the morning before,
Scents of wisteria and yellow jasmine that
Blanket the world;
Still holding your hand,
Only letting go to pick a flower and hand it to you,
Lost in the blissful void of the
Never-never land of
My dreams,
Where nothing and nobody else exists or matters;
Yet upon opening my eyes, I realize
This is not a dream.
Is it possible for reality to be so surreal?
