I don’t see a dark room anymore.
I don’t see her glowing when she enters.
I see human flesh and skin
and facial recognition;
All greater connection is disproved.

There is never magic in this room.
Never wonder of one true god
or love or flawless views.
I see no more than vision
when her hair flows in the wind.
My mind says, 'yeah, that’s nice, but nothing new.'

Some mornings I still sit out on the mountains,
the fresh air and the inspiring views.
And I see forever through landscapes,
some untrodden by man,
new territories undiscovered,
new places no one’s seen.
But I know what I will find there
is just more of the same.
The world’s no pretty place
without the dreams.