What is this silence that blows through my vision? What waits for my every love? This wind carries laughter and tears to the same place.
Over the hill and down the valley, in a crevice by a stream, a little boy plays with magic and creates a life from a dream.
Can I smile at my undoing, relax into a quiet scene, while my heart aches for madness, and my mind loves the theme?
What is this silence that drowns my hope? That stops the child who would but dream?