Pull the blanket tighter, Feel the warmth build up, Let it set your soul on fire, And overflow its cup.
Eyes spark with worlds untold. Towering sagas of adventure, Dancing, on a razor, round a rim of soft brown iris,
The words of never thought up heroes fight for life out in this new playground,
Then drift off in a breeze, as the pillow gets too lumpy and your neck begs for sleep.
Hope someone catches them. Hope their dance won't stop. True creation is immortal, Or at least lets us believe our lies.