Tired of the dream,
Too tired to wake.
I watch from behind my eyelids,
shadowy images giving way to silhouettes.

The landscape fills with Ferris Wheels.
Colors absorb into the shadows,
Blurred lines intensify.
Faceless ghosts become actors and clowns.

Now I have become the shadow,
the ghost, the silhouette.
Now it is they,
who are watching me.

If I talk or if I move,
my dream will fade away.
As my heart, slows to stop,
I wake to face the day.