While dreams' intentions lie asleep

life's dusty paths will cease to creep

and in that twilight of a life

we live upon the restless deep

where phantoms take us by the hand

as if they need us

through the sifting grains of sand

into a febrile hinterland

ever entrancing

the dreams are dancing

on that sad old wonderland

resurrecting life's rare chances

where miracles lay waiting waiting,

 

Then bewitched by what we hope to gain

we let our days begin again.