Mere words bleeding from a pen bring no justice to a page
Careless is he who has not bound his thoughts to some passion
Writers of dry, emotionless tales have forgotten love's great symphony
The dreamer writes to move the masses, enthrall you in a separate world
He dares not think of editing his emotions for fear of humiliation
For those he writes of are caught in a similar, thrusting wind
Lives brought into swift contact with his immortal dreamer's soul
Attempts to chain his imagery and cap his pen would dampen the page
Leaving behind little to be read, Making cheap the price he has paid
When he looked into the past, all he could see was all the blame
Every moment in time told another story and his pen but wrote
He does not entertain fears that his well will ever run dry
For inside the heart of the dreamer, there is always another tale untold
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