The seas crashing against the shore; the waves lashing the sands
That is the memory
The perfect blue skies; a dazzling sun on an all too familiar landscape
That is the reality ...
This is the forgotten place of absolute power
Deep in the recesses the magical symbols are waiting to be found
The fiery pictographs to be harnessed by the eternal mind
There ... in caves ... close by to a shore
Tribal, primitive scratches the layman will blindly overlook
as they light the fires and cook their meals under the sky ...
He recalls the dreams he had
and gazes into the dream he is now having
He waits to close his eyes as his head touches the gentle pillow
He is ready for his new day to begin once he closes his eyes
It will be then he remembers more about the old homeland.
