I wonder,
I wonder if this life is life at all;
if it's a dream, then I may fall.
The feelings I embrace may be false;
the triumph of love, this moonlight waltz.
Memories I hold dear,
thoughts of fear:
Are they all that which they seem,
a fragments of a shattered dream?
But who to say this dream is real,
even though we may not feel.
Does it harm me to say,
I do not wish it this way?