They say sleep is the best medicine,
I do not know, my mind makes small
talk with wild river rapids, my thoughts
take me to a little garden filled with pink blossoms.
I wait for moon to rise,
for stars to smile down
and sing to my dreams.
My sleep is restless,
a little bit of paranoia sweeps the air
continents shine under starlight while
generations from past look on and gaze down
on worried souls who struggle to dream in sleep.