The Architect of Dreams
Beneath the veil where shadows play, An architect toils till break of day. No bricks, no mortar, just wisps of air, They build with wonder, raw and rare. With hands that sculpt the unseen streams, They craft the fabric of our dreams. A whisper of light, a cascade of sound, In their designs, no limits are bound. A palace of hope for the weary soul, A labyrinth to make the restless whole. A storm to confront our buried fears, A garden to bloom in joy's quiet tears. Through dreams, they speak what words conceal, Revealing wounds they aim to heal. Desires hidden, regrets untold, In fragile tapestries, they unfold. Each night, a world anew is spun, A fleeting gift before the sun. Yet in those moments, brief and bright, We glimpse the truths that shape our light. Oh, architect, unseen, unknown, In dreams you leave us seeds you've sown. For when we wake, your echoes stay, Guiding us gently through the day. And though we may forget your art, You build your temples in our heart. An arch...
