If I wander around the world outside,

I wonder if I’d find you,

I wonder if you’d be mine,

Is love so fleeting?

Are hearts so blind?

Or is that just the facade of time?

If angels could sing would it be of truth,

Or the things that I hear just fairy-tales of youth,

Its a fantastic notion,

but a false record,

And the dreams I weaving,

Can they be made something more,

Or when the clock strikes twelve,

Will all things be made as before?

I dream of worlds,

And worlds unknown,

Of unity, fantasy, and things not shown,

That I close my eyes and fly away,

Then open again am grounded in stone,

Would this then show my heads in the sky,

Then should I stop and have life pass me by?

In life we search for love and hope,

In mine here I sit at home,

And plead with self to uplift image,

That I’d be better off alone.

How unfeeling they have all seemed,

Tho I have tried and they left me,

I’m left with empty and no heart to show,

These are the stories that are not told,

And how my smile would truly beam,

If only it knew the place meant to be seen.

If then I was reincarnated,

And if then such idea exist,

How many times would I pass through this style,

Or is this not stated on my list?

If books are written,

And books are charted,

Tho the winds blow through the sands of time,

Perhaps one day,

Will weave together,

And like intricate pattern,

be well entwined.

This will be what I try to hide,

My hearts longing I will not find,

So my hope as if fate has intended,

The you I don’t know,

Will one day be mine.