At night she dreamed of far off places
Little Spaces
Lonely faces.
Cultures, races,
Playing aces.
Music.
Masks.
And old bone maces.
At night she dreamed of cities old,
Colors still so clean and bold,
Left abandoned in the cold.
Tonight she lies inside her bed.
And gently rests her weary head.
For when the sun will break the sky,
It will come her time to fly.
