The World That Isn'T Real

There's a land where the wind whistles low and long As my hair whips against my face And gray swallows the sky as the clouds dance in a circle Every fear envelopes my sole and my sole sinks deep inside me The fields stretch long in wide in all directions And the winding road reaches it's hand out to the horizon The trees are bare and lifeless their fingers brittle and sad The grass reaches up and brushes my knees and it sways back and forth in rhythm with the wind I am alone I am afraid And it haunts me In the world that isn't real