When you held me in last night's dream
and the veils of this world held no sway 
and I no more cared to push you away,
I no longer cared that you had not cared
to see what this life, this world, this love
had done to me.

It did not matter that you did not choose to know
how it was I chose, despite this mud you threw on me,
to grow, to belive in the beauty of our dream
no matter how many people stooped to scorn and
spit on me.

Nor did it mean anything that I had failed to see
the why of when you chose to play his part: pretender,
player, puppetmaster, my king who cast his crown
upon cold ground only so I might care enough
to be found.

Here I am, love. Do you not see? Can you not hear
echo of my heart's eternal call and all that reverberates
and wills all things back to life? Listen. Hear life's song
that gave birth to our fall into this dream that seems so real.
Arise! Return to first light on the first morning of the first day
when you held me.