Dreams Of Nonsense

The change is in the air not your pocket.
When a raven becomes like a writing desk,
that's when I know,
my dreams are the best.
Stay awake,
stay awake,
open your mind.
Expand the narrow road.
When the new ones begin to rise,
know that you'll be rewriting all the stories through your eyes.

Magic grows inside your head,
cleaver teachings of the cleaver wizard.
Darkened paths are where you're led,
on your shoulder a malevolent lizard.
Fall into the spider's hole.
Entangled in your worst fears,
so quick to sell your soul,
left to dwell on wasted years.
It is now quarter past the hour.
These sweet juices we once had have now turned sour.
Her eggs hatched and out flew flies.
I tried to further see, but I had lost my eyes.

Careful not to lose sight and scribble,
the poet's pen must be quick and nimble.
Inscribing delicacies and proud speaking,
happy heads and mirth for reading.
Are you awake?  Still dreaming?
Wake up!