sinning
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When the dreamer’s dream, where do they go?
It’s not that field of yellow flowers.
There are no happy endings in this story.
To dream is to lie.
To lie is to sin.
I can hear him
whisper in my ear,
he calls my name,
controls me with fear.
These vile demons
running in my head,
live in my dreams
and beneath my bed.
I feel guilty.
Stumble, trip and fall
I will arise once more
No weight may break me
No obstacle may bar me
I will overcome it all
No demon shall sway me
