I want to go beyond

Every single limit,

But I still have the bond.

Don't cry, don't throw a fit.

It's all made of moonlight.

It's not real, it's not right.

Think of him in the air,

In the shades of the sky,

Growing on trees of care,

And never wonder why

He appears to exist.

This vision does not cease.

Travelling through these walls,

It curves, it climbs, it falls

Through time and many halls.

I open my cold hands,

But they disintegrate.

Cubes sliding on these lands,

After decades of wait,

Finally out at sea

To be the real old me.