Dreamers

It’s hard to dream the dream when the world around you wants only violence. Why do I dream? Why am I a dreamer? What good am I to this world? Who am I without my dreams? Cold and hard is the heart of a non-dreamer. Ice covers the eyes and blocks out the colors of the Universe. They dress in shades of darkness so the colors can’t get near them. I hang my head low and my colors are faded. Oh spirit, help me unlock the colors from within. The power of the dreamer is sometimes hard to find. A cry of mercy and a plea of hope, escapes from a dream. The colors must have their freedom, no matter what the cost. The dreamer bleeds and bones are broken. Finally, the key is discovered and the colors burst forth. The colors blind all as they shred the nightmares to pieces. Bones are still broken and the darkness still waits for its chance once again. The key is the dream. Never stop dreaming for you are the chosen dreamer.