Imaginary world,
Inside my head.
A made up world,
Not many comprehend.
Is it real,
This place i dream?
This place i travel to,
Instead of scream.
Purple flowers,
And electric light.
Fields forever
Rolling out of sight.
Mountains tower,
Caps of white.
There is no sun,
Only moonlight.
Screeches and howls,
From the glorious guitar.
Strangers crowd,
From near and far.
Now it is me,
In front of the mass.
Not Jimi,
With the axe he smashed.
Me onstage,
And someone takes lead.
Vocals from a Muze,
To the crowd she feels.
Songs of sorrow
Pain within,
Now without,
This combination can win.
The band is complete,
Two souls form one feeling.
This world is real,
And this dream is not done being.
It will go on for long,
If feelings are felt.
I have made my axe,
You have made your mark.
In my mind it is light still,
When the world is so dark.
It is us on this hill.

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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

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