Drifting streams of teardrops on the wake of the horizon.

A soft string melody touches closer to the vision,

of fragile wings that glow with light and a soul that shines with freedom.

A dream of flight that passes thoughts of hopeless fights for reason.

Through quiet morning fog new beams of sunlight listen

to the yawning of the flowers and the drops of dew that glisten

like a candle flame that plays with time

or the mind that burns with wisdom.

A heart that burns with passion burns like poison in the system.

Bright eyes shut closed makes visions grow then darkness sets them free.

In a mind reflections show drifting teardrops on the breeze.

In mornings shadowed light that hides among the trees, new wings give birth to flight.

Drifting teardrops mark the breeze.

A soft string song that flows along with a voice of memories.

A rhapsody that takes all sight then pulls a mind to peace.

In water drops that glow with light echo thoughts of golden dreams.

A vision of a special song and the feelings that it brings.

When lonely night shrouds fair flowers in fair sleep,

Wild dew drops waken to the swaying of the trees.

The moons dull stare show the stars every cruelty on the streets

like a lovers haunting silence or the death of natures beasts.

Beyond dollhouse walls cruel thoughts soon find release.

A mind shows a soul that the heart has found defeat.

The soft string song now brings along

drifting teardrops on the breeze.

The butterfly in gentle winds with fragile rainbow wings, a heart of gentle kindness, a thought for just one thing.

In the moment when I awake my freedom I will sing.