He spent his days
Telling people
To keep their feet
On the cold, uncaring
EARTH.

He spent his nights
Dreaming of
PLaces of surrealistic
creatures and mists of
COLOR.

One foot in a world
that couldn't care less
One foot in a world
that caressed and kissed and
LOVED.

When he was a small boy and told his mother of his haunting dream,
Of a caring voice, violet eyes, black velvet and hands that were never mean,
She shook her head and blamed it on the evils of television and radio.
It never occured to her that there were things of which she did not know.

That dream just kept on coming, no matter how he pleaded and cried.
He didn't want to see that face anymore, the face that never lied.
He was too beautiful for the world, you know. Much too innocent.
He didn't belong in a world that would never relent.

One day his mother wasn't there anymore, and he was all alone.
He was an adult at last but in his dreams he hadn't at all grown.
Still so very innocent and very cynical, loving only that face.
When his friends asked him about it, he hung his head in disgrace.

He was in love, he knew it, he wanted it, but how could he explain
That the one who drove him crazy was also the one who kept him sane?
How could he explain he was in love with a man who didn't even exist
So deeply in love that if that face wanted him dead, he wouldn't resist?

The day came, not so very long after, when the face revealed his name.
And it didn't even matter to the man, for he had grown weary of the game.
The name was very welcome to him, you know, because he knew that at last
He could join that magical land that seemed forever so vast.

That beautiful, fairy face was Death, and he had been waiting for a while
Until the time when he would finally be able to reach out and give a smile
To the gorgeous man he had haunted since birth
Waiting so he could rescue him from the earth...