What's a dream without its mystery,
Without its sense of false security,
Only thriving upon its travesty,
And only taking away your clarity.
But despite all its dirty tricks,
It helps to prevent the bricks,
From clogging up all our cracks,
As life seeps from our tracks.
As dusk's last light waits for dawn,
The sky losing its orange and fawn,
And the sandman wears his crown,
Is when smiles replace the frown,
Unleashing tales only He can spawn.
