A Song of Fantasy

All this time, we've dreamed.
All the lives, lived and died.
Carried in the wind, live desert sand.
The tunnel of time, stands barren.
Swept into infinity.

At worlds end, the mists of para-time,
rests in shimmering grace.
Flowing forth, across endless plane.
Endlessly restless,
force and desire, spent.
Mists surrounds, shimmering liquid,
floating, swirling, erupting.
Never real, yet ever present.......