across a field of golden wheat
i skipped through a dream
an unknown place
where the sun warmed my face

on my skin a warm crisp breeze
the kind of place that comforts me
a saphire sky touched by golden rays
with no blimish of clouds today

through the air i hear a joyous song
the birds singing as if nothings wrong
the wind carries thier echoed voice
as if has no other choice

i turn to embrace the sun again
to feel its warmth upon my skin
i close my eyes and let it wash over me
and feel a shift that i was not expecting

a cool blast of air hit my face
a chill blows through my comfort place
and what i see when i open my eyes
was not what i expecting to find

my saphire sky was cluttered with grey
and the rain was threatening my golden rays
the warmth i felt upon my skin
i wanted so badly to feel again

the golden wheat beneath my feet
had turned to scroched dead weeds
lying lifeless across the ground
turning to ash as i spun around

the song i heard had been replaced
by hallowed screams in my comfort place
the wind that carried the voice along
was now writhing with a different song

i turn to look to find the sun
and wish the grey would come undone
i wish the breeze would warm my skin
i want to hear that song again

i wish the sun could beat the grey
i want to stay in my comfort place
without the ash beneath my feet
i want to skip through the golden wheat