The Waking Dream
by TacomaSquall
I look at my homeland,
As I stand onstage, alone –
They ask me to redeem it –
To bring hope back with my songs.
How can I bring hope
To anyone, to anywhere?
I, whose father betrayed
The hope and faith he once held.
Hesitant, I begin the story.
A lost mariner am I,
Cast upon Marbule's shore
By the storms of war.
The chords I play, trembling –
Trying o win Zelbess' favor.
My role's trepidation masking
The doubts that are gripping me.
Disjointed, discouraged, I halt.
Faith seems to desert me.
All I have is the role –
My father, when once he believed.
I lose myself in the music,
As he did before me.
I try to bring it to life,
A cry to the heavens above.
From the depths of despair,
My voice cries for surcease.
The music sweeps me away -
The answer to my real and feigned prayers.
So long as there are dreams –
Hope will live forever.
Not all dreams are nightmares –
And we choose which ones to follow.
We are the magical dreamers,
Blessed with the ability
To bring our dreams into life –
If we but keep the faith.
The music is ecstasy.
I realize I have succeeded.
For one shining moment –
Our dream truly was life.