Life is but a dream. Here, here. Blowing circles. Cold breath blowing steam. Full of air but short of life. Almost like a knife, stabbing you, when you gasp,-- You gasp -- for air. Speechless. Standing there you wish it's over but, yet its slow. Stinging your back, hot air to blow. Venting, washing machine. Low dry tumble. Its a fight, a realistic struggle to get it all right. Straight to the back. What do you think? Heartless out of control, small glimpse of spite. Snap back, you’re dreaming. Back to reality. It seems like the dreams are better. You wish to be there. Closing your pale eyelids, with fright. Fright or fear. Fear of waking, closed eyelids. You'd rather rest. When you're at your peak of light. Rapid thoughts flood your mind. Overflowing, seeping out of your ears. Even rising through your eyes. No that’s called tears. All to much. Too much to handle, too much to believe. Its better in your sleep-- because you don't have to believe. Life is more. Life is but a dream.