Empire of Dreams: 1 ~Prologue~ The Gray Beach Dreams used to fall like rain on a spring morning here, each passing thought sticking to the air like dew on the blades of green grass. Laughter was the rolling thunder of this storm of dreams, sparks of creative magic was its lightning. It would come upon our shores from the distant sea of man and fill our spirits beyond fullness. The dreams were our power, our way of livin
Of Mud and MusicI close my eyes and I am lost. The pulsating rhythm of the drums and the screaming banshee calls of the lead guitar take me away and I am forced to dance.I strip away all of my possessions, leaving only my barren body to be dragged into the mud, its earthen textures forming on me a new skin.I hear a voice singing out lyrics on a stage so far from my mind that the words becomejumbled like a lost tribal language.As I rise and fall to bring forth the spirits of the dance, adrenalin pumps faster withmy heart and clouds my view of reality yet heightening my senses. I am lost in my own world, unaware of all that is around me.So I dance, tied down by the ancient hammering rhythm,bound by the tribal whisperings to my spirit,and trapped by the mud on my naked bodybut never had my soul felt so free.
In This Whispering WorldHear me in this whispering worldSmudged and blurred beyond autonomyGive me dreams to call my ownBe sure to pay the blind man for directionsBreath beyond the drowning tideForget what it was you were seekingEncumbered and alone we restThe wild horses are running on empty.Take each part of me for your ownThe choking vines of regret are dieingWake the sleepers and the lostTogether we shall dance and sing their praiseFor I am not without happinessGray and tired as the gathering dawn may beMy drifting spirit is uplifted hereIn this place where I can get away from me.Hear me in this whispering worldSmudged and blurred beyond autonomyGive me dreams to call my ownBe sure to pay the blind man for directions