Rainland

The world is made of many pages
And every page contains a world
We flicker through them in the daytime
But in the night become unfurled
Hey, the past is gone
And only rain
Will linger on
A mirror bright
In a dream
Shining red
A land of rain
Shaping me
A sheet of light
In a stream
In my head
A land of rain
Taking me
I am the maker of my promise
I am the dreamer of my day
This unmade thing that overtakes me
Has miltiplied and got away
Hey, the past is gone
And only rain
Will linger on
A mirror bright
In a dream
Shining red
A land of rain
Shaping me
A sheet of light
In a stream
In my head
A land of rain
Taking me
It was the power of creation
That's what I was searching for
The answer was a simple as sleeping between two mirrors;
dreams reflected back and forth between a million worlds,
refined and concentrated into ideas
as much of creation as can be contained inside a human skull.
At first the dream made no sense to me
Red like a fire engine,
Covered in ugly bolts
then the subtlety of the design came through;
the way is mirrored my thoughts, my mind,
the process that created it
I was mesmerised by the flow and the intricacy until it filled my whole understanding
Hey, the past is gone
And only rain
Will linger on
A mirror bright
In a dream
Shining red
A land of rain
Shaping me
A sheet of light
In a stream
In my head
A land of rain
Taking me