What is it?
Is it a dream that seems to be

As real as the reality

Of our lives in the waking world?

Do we control the dream?

Can we turn lucid nightmares

Into dreams of paradise?

 

Perhaps the dream controls us.

Perhaps it's just a game

In which we are merely pawns.

Puppets that the dream controls.

 

Do we see whatever is coming?

Or is our vision blurred?

Must we run away and hide?

Or can we stand and fight?

 

Can we fly away from fear?

Soaring high above the clouds

Until we reach the shores of peace

and tranquility?

Or must we hide in the darkness,

Staying crouched in the shadows,

Until the light of day?