Strewn all about before him in a field of broken dreams; Lay the scattered pieces of his once new beginnings. Doors are closed and fences are wired and the battle line is drawn; He guards the inner most of his existence. And his face is lined with worry and marred by the tears; From his rivers of sorrow for all lost hope. His cries from within are deadened by the walls of silent anger; And he waits; He waits for one who has not come. Feathers of doves lay before him as if guiding; But they are unknown paths and unsure directions. Driven by desire but imprisoned by circumstances; Escape seems hopeless. In a secret place of his mind are memories; Memories of yesterday’s that were once his new tomorrows. A house is not a home and windows are fastened shut; In a garden where flowers once bloomed; Tangled webs of lies and deceit now loom; And his universe goes unfed. In his dreams comes a lady of magic; Her face goes unseen, there's only a light from her eyes; It penetrates his mind and somehow tells him; That with her blown breath fences will vanish; Doors will be opened. And with her touch gardens will flourish; and hearts will be fed. There is gentleness from her that shows him hope. As the light from the new dawn brings him back; To the place where he now stands; These thought are repeated over and over. Is she real; Will she really come? Will she come in time?