We rarely met to watch the sky beneath our favorite tree
It was hard to find her anywhere but worlds of fantasy
So I asked in precious moments just what she'd been dreaming of
I knew she'd never had a lover, but she often fell in love
Her mind wove tales of mighty beasts and prophecies and kings
Of dark and light and hot and cold and sweet and bitter things
She painted over daily life to show me stranger lands
Each brush stroke made with care that's found in a good mother's hands
I found her there again today; I hadn't checked in years
The grass beneath her shimmered with the dewdrops of her tears
I pulled her close and gripped her tight and felt her body shake
It wasn't 'til the sun set that she told me her mistake
"I saw," she choked, between her sobs, "a different kind of dream."
A pause to breathe and hold inside the psyche's wailing scream
"It was a future that I saw. A world I made for me."
"And now I'll die because I know of things that cannot be."