The dreamer sits

Locked away in a cage of her own thoughts

Staring out the window

Dreaming of freedom

And things to be

And things that could be

And things that were 

But not of things that are

The dreamer watches

And dreams

Day after day the dreamer watches the sun

And moon

In a constant cycle, a constant battle

And the dreamer watches the land

With wind and growth and change

Fyre and water and life

And the dreamer waits

And waits

Until she is very old

And she hates her dreams, for they are honeyed lies

And then she dies

Another dreamer watches out his window

But he is not content to dream

And he breaks his window

And he runs free

Free in the wind

And free in the water

And free in the fyre

And he exists in what is

For what is is beautiful

And he is free

But the first dreamer never knew how to break her glass

And so her dreams grew

Then ripened

Then rotted

And the once sweet taste turned sour on her tongue

And she found that her dreams 

Her promises of someday freedom

Were sweet tasting lies

And they were false comfort to chase away the tears

And she wanted to die

So her dreams would go away

And she got as old and as rotten

As her fallen dreams

And her salty tears

Were all she had left

To chase away the longing