Thirteenth Hour

Tree of Dreams

There's a tree that grows dreams
In all different colors
The fruit of the soul
Given sweet form

A tree with silver branches
Like moonlit rivers
Flowing through the sky
Budding into wishing stars

A tree that children pick from
They eagerly climb up
Eyes wide and bright
To pluck a dream of their own

I'm pinned beneath the roots
Listening to them scream
As the tree of dreams
Burns and scatters