Under the Sky of Dreams

In the sleeping places, where the dreams make way for us,
A journey into long forgotten and restless realms.
A single minded voyage into the birthplace of gods and monsters,
We will meet again, in the halls of moonlight and wine.
We will dance to the sounds of a concerto long dead,
Wrapped arm in arm the two of us in dreams.
We will be welcomed by the whispering ghosts,
Who laugh and kiss in the autumn paths.
We will rest beneath the gaze of our hospitable host,
The Prince of Stories, the Tale Spinner, the King of Dreams.
He is tall and silent, dreadful and mighty,
Father of nightmares and brother of Death.
Sleep will bring us arm in arm my gentle darling,
To the gates of horn and ivory, beyond the shores of night.