King of Dreams Subtitle Different War, Same Feelings

Upon a winged horse he flies To spired castles in the skies And there through star-lined halls he strides, A fiery sword slung at his side. The scabbard for this burning blade From fragile dreams of love is made. On his brow a golden circlet rests Of high position to attest. As misty floors pass ‘neath his feet And he breathes the air so warm and sweet, He looks down on a war-torn earth And his mind goes back to his kingdom’s birth. A young man trapped inside a war He could not find a reason for; So confused by doubt he started to run And found that his battle had only begun. He ran so fast and he ran so far Until at last he could run no more And there in a meadow ‘neath pale moonbeams He collapsed, exhausted, and started to dream. Within an empty hall he stood, The walls of clouds and not of wood. The floors were all with stardust strewn. The beams were all of sunlight hewn. Instead of a soldier’s olive drab In silks and satins he now was clad. Before him two golden doors swung wide, So gathering his courage, he strode inside. Then morning came, With the sun he awoke. “I’ve got to go back.” Were the first words he spoke, But sleep wouldn’t return No matter how hard he tried, So lifting his sidearm He fired… Now when you look up to the clouds And they seem like a palace Remember that king In the land of his dreams.