Out of Reach

There’s a dream on the morrow
I’m afraid it’s quite the climb
Past the swamps of sorrow
Across the sands of time

There’s a dream on the morrow
But we’re still at today
No path for us to follow
But somehow, we’ll be okay.

Without a Trace

The world’s a terrifying place
I don’t wish to be seen
It’s just a chance for more disgrace
To fall short of everything

I don’t want to show my face
Or wake up from my dream
I want to disappear without a trace
So I can’t be less than what I seem

What We Lose

You were in my dreams again
Inaccessible, as in life
Things are sharper now than they were then
And I’m the one who bore the knife

I saw you through the glass again
A distant shape, a distant voice
How are we supposed to win
When we lose so much by choice?

My Captain

I remember all the little notes
He left around the ship;
The gentle love of which they spoke,
His most generous gift.

I remember all the little notes;
He wrote them all in rhyme,
And though he wrote no signature,
I knew the author every time.

I remember all his little notes,
And I remember still his name,
But he, I think, will never know
Why I truly came.

I remember all his little notes,
The ones he tucked away;
For I was sent to break his trust —
Instead, I ran away.