gently falling and looming,
over rounded hills and darkening streets,
and with dreams and nightmares it meets.
the moon, white rose,
everything that she knows,
is the flowering of the night,
soft and without might.
the petals, stars,
they rise, reflecting off cars,
and the stem, inky black sky,
it soars high.
the dream dances,
it twirls and it prances,
swallowing minds,
to the people it binds.
then comes the nightmare,
it won't play fair,
laughing in screams,
tearing at dreams.
tears they fall,
to cruel nightmare, they call
yet there is hope,
the dreams can cope.
blazing red sun,
over the mountains nightmare will run,
dawn's liquid heat,
the nightmare has been beat.


