Chasing the Next Dream

Chasing the Next Dream                                       March 22, 2006

The night passed me by in solitude,

Leaving me with another desire

To ponder through.

People often ask me

What I find so desirous,

And I say, "It's just a thing called love."

But when you look at love

And wonder what it is made of,

Sweet things come to mind,

And with that being said,

I'll begin chasing the next dream,

And that'll make me pacified.

It seems the spectre is so much more

Than some tall blond, long-legged Sally.

It seems the lady, as a matter of fact,

Has no real face at all,

And yet, she's the beacon for beauty

This soul has always sought,

Whose light has seared a lasting mark

Like the branding of cattle.

I am hers, and she has a burning hold

That simply won't let go.

I may hold her once I reach the horizon,

But I had better do so before the sunrise,

Or the breath of night shall cease

And I'll be chasing the next dream.

Well, chasing dreams

Seems to be what I do best,

Or so I've been told by friends.

That's all good until the lack of a harvest

Born from a lack of fruition.

Each and everyday is a gamble,

The roll of the dice tells if you win or lose,

And yet still, I yearn for love and the thrill

I get when I close out the sun.