In my dreams,

I found myself standing in a room

Unlike any other I've ever seen.

A room filled with dolphin statues,

A black piano in the middle,

Small trees lying on the corners

Of pillars raised in marble and limestone,

Something about the room brought peace

To my tormented soul.

From within the room

I saw my neighborhood,

Pictures of a past life left behind

Appeared as I played the piano.

The house where I used to live

Is all but ruins,

The garden where Freya and I used to play?

It's empty, all the children have run away.

The church where mother used to pray

Is a place with a lack of faith

And signs of decay.

This is the palace of our Majesty

Who ran away like a coward,

A portrait of father hangs in the hall,

He did not live to see Burmecia's downfall.

This is the land where I once found dignity,

But what else is there left

Other than the bitter aftertaste of impunity?

The last thing I saw before I woke up

Was a wounded Burmecian.

A soldier who lost his home, lost his sight,

He got an important message to deliver,

Nothing else mattered, no such reward

For a man who was taken away from his family.

He walked above the plains,

Marched across the river,

No pale shelter, no place to shiver,

In fear of death he whimpered.

He is just a man, not the best,

In his journey he finds no rest

Until he reached for Lindblum, his destination.

"Our kingdom is being attacked", He begged on his knees

As he spoke about the horrors he saw in his nation.

"The King and I are friends", The Regent said

As he ordered reinforcements to be sent,

And the Burmecian soldier heard his kind words

Before he died under the heat of the final sunset.

Then I woke up

Staring at the ceiling,

Wondering to myself

About living in a world

Where you can be anything

As you forget to be unique.

I have forgotten who I am,

I have forgotten who I was,

Why figure yourself out

If no one can hear you shout?

What makes you think

You are everything the world needs

When nothing has been accomplished

To overcome your past misdeeds?

Standing on the threshold,

Caught in fiery anger,

My memories faded into mold,

The world made less sense as I grew old.