Drought-filled days in the scorching sun

cold and desolate black nights

dreaming while both asleep and awake

and every dream is either forgotten or a memory

I oft dream of brown eyes

but find myself wanting the Tall One

from the Fair One

The former from whom I've been estranged

But O! The Fair with the Angel's voice!

How can I keep running away?

Methinks I fear of the good he can bring

and the morning marking a lie

And the Tall One, the Estranged

He whom I can melt by a single touch

After four ages apart,

is it too late to say "I like you too"?

One man is the Past

The other is the Future

The former holds a long-forgotten heart

Whilst the latter an endless uncertainty

Choose, I cannot

for how can one choose

between two friends,

both of whom she loves?

So goes the tale of Dreams of Waking

for all lovers ultimately find the same destiny

and I want to break free from tradition

without breaking a heart on the way.