I can see all the colors of the Worlds through my eyes,
of life, of death, of the beautiful Sunrise.
I can see all the wonders of the Worlds through my dreams,
the rain and the stars, but nothing’s as it seems.
I can hear the secrets of the Worlds through my ears,
peoples’ hopes, peoples’ fate, their sorrows and their fears.
But most of all I feel
all throughout my core
every wonder, every wave,
and the rest becomes a bore.
How can I sit here dreaming my dreams
when the same dreams tell me things aren’t what they seem?
How can I stay here with the stars in my eyes
seeing life, seeing death, seeing every beautiful sunrise?
How can I wait here when my ears always ring
with wonders and secrets and every dark little thing?
How can I stay still when my core is an ocean
of every texture, every shade, every temperature of emotion?
And How can I stay silent when the Worlds seem to Scream
that all those dark little secrets…
are things that everyone has seen;
when the people of this world
create a trouble most obscene:
To pretend this raging ocean
is a calm and quiet stream?