I am locked up inside a house of solid glass, //
Open to every look of the one's who pass. //
Moments of fantasy trade with those of void, //
Images of repose, repress the worldly toil.
I can't tell the difference between what's real and dream.
Is this the land of riches, //
The path to our source? //
Is this the only key to unlock all doors? //
Or has my fantasy once again fooled me? //
Will the signs I see next fail to free me?
I can't tell the difference between what's real and dream.
As if I awake from the deepest sleep, //
And as if the road to being seems less steep.
These glassy walls that have surrounded me //
Break and give way for a flow of energy. //
Freedom I sought, //
And for which I have paid, //
Strides over my strongly built barricades.
The self I really am, //
That was once disguised, //
Evolves to the fullest - starts its steady rise. //
Rids the broken pieces of my shattered past. //
It overcomes the fear - weight, I've lost at last.
Now there's just space, //
Endlessly new to me. //
The flash of light enables me to see, //
And my view touches horizons as serene, //
As the source of all that I have ever dreamed.
