Dreams...

The lad...

few were his years
but great was his mind
fewer still were his fears
he was just one of a kind

to all

to be a hero, a savior
this was his dream
to prove none was braver
but only one task did he deem

was worthwhile

"I'll take my own life"
the boy thought to himself
"To messy with a knife,
though simple with my wealth"

but how

"Surely no act is braver,
seeing my peers cower
death is no thing to waver
before, it's easily within my power"

he decided

to slumber and gain answers in a dream
so he went to bed early that night
and fluffed up his pillow and gulped down some cream
in order to dream of death, his obvious might

to weave

a dream reflects one's true heart
and one has no choice but to play their part
the soul emerges to choose its fate
for better or worse, to love or to hate

a song

the sky was as blue as the purest sapphire
the dream world was stunning, to the boy's great ire
sprinting straight by a youthful beauty
her long bronze hair unnoticed by he

but yet

his glorious surroundings weren't appealing in the least
he wouldn't have cared if he was trapped by a beast
the azure sky ceased, cut by a black ravine
the boy's heart leapt, and so far out did he lean

fear gripped

the darkness swallowed all
but in the murk he saw
a hand gripped like a claw
spying a face he meant to call

a boy

who saw himself in the looking glass
and couldn't believe what had come to pass
he had seen himself slip into the abyss
and tried desperately to understand what was amiss

then understood

a blinding light erupted from the chasm
the pit was now an eerie phantasm
the boy was amazed; it had just been there
but as he awoke, he glimpsed long bronze hair

true feeling

in life, the boy changed his old thought
he knew now what must be done
though with perils the new path was fraught
he made up his mind, he had already begun

so he wrote.