In a room without rooms,
the whispers of things that never were,
sing songs with no animals,
under a moon called Morning Sun.
Shadows dance with friendly giggles,
but their faces are the faces of things
that look behind you when you are not looking.
Answer on the other side,
whispering star.
Dreams are painted in colors unspeakable,
on pages of books that do not exist.
There the light skips, a skipping child,
laughing with pebbles, sky, and time.
Would you like to stay, or shall we play?
Choose your adventure in this land,
where words like candy are strewn,
and the night has stories untold.
Another path calls,
phantom rhythm.