I DO NOT DREAM_
I HAVE VISIONS OF RED AND BLUE_
IT IS IN THE FIRES, AND THE FORESTS_
THE SOULS IN THE SAND BECKON YOU, WARN YOU, ECHO THINGS YOU DO NOT KNOW_
ALL WHILE THEY SLOW YOUR FEET_
AS YOU DRAG THEM ACROSS IT’S SURFACE_
WATER SIZZLES AND DISAPPEARS_
IT HAS NO CHANCE HERE_
BUT YOU WONDER, IF MAYBE IT USED TO_
WHEN YOU SEE TEARS FALL FROM THE SKY_
AND THE UNSEEMLY SOUND OF A GHASTLY CRY_
TEETERING ON THE EDGES AND HOPING YOU HAVE A CHANCE_
YOU DO NOT_
THERE IS NO SAFETY FROM THE SKY ON ONE SMALL PILLAR_
BUT I AM NOT YOU_
I AM MADE OF RED AND BLUE_

















