Return to Music
By Nell James
Fiction’s true if truth is sense’s lies
Maybe fantasy is truth in disguise
Thriving in a dream of yesterday
When the heart feels right, what can you say?
Timeline stretching out in decades
Turn into days and bend in my mind
We’re already so blind, so what’s the false in trusting your pulse?
Loves of real are few and far between
Is it more unreal if the shadow’s unseen?
Value is facade now they seem peas from
the same pod
The memory and the dream run the same stream
Can you understand a bursting heart without demand?
Will this gain respect when you measure the effect?
Myths and stories all, there’s nothing
more that you can call
My image of the past, and yet it will last
When an empty place hangs in the air will take a face
Feeling’s just as real and just as ideal
© 2006 Nell James