Dreamer's Paradise Poem by Amy Stuart

The dark meadows of sin and the hidden treasure
The silver lake only covered by the snow
A writer torn apart by flames of hate, of love and pain
The last performance of an escapist, seeker of beauty

We live like the sun and the moon and the everlasting space
A poet is one who stays under the rain hoping to be struck by lighting
Under the ever washing rain we live and die
Release the tears of heaven may our sins be cleansed

Her poetry had long been without name, without destiny
Now, from the other life she smiles at us, and writes
The verses stopped, and her breath was muffled
Six feet underground she writes not for us, but for the dead

His poetry had long been mislead and misread
The tears dropped onto the ground like rain drops
It is the end of all hope, the end of his life
Yet the poetry still breathes

Poetry is a mirror, a mirror of sin
It makes beautiful that which is distorted
Search for beauty in the gardens
Acquire the knowledge of the wises, find your shoreline

The sunset is here, soon there will be rain
Where will be when it comes?
Breathe my poetry and burn my words
The rain is here, the shoreline is near
Search your shoreline, find beauty.