My Psyche

My psyche is set like an illusion
Filled with ominous thoughts
Its unknown howe light dwells there at the core
When one walks down the lonely road of my mind
They shall notice dreams fill almost every house
The house on the end moans in sorrow
The shingles falling off the rotting wood
Cold air around it freezes every breathe
This is where dreams die
This is where dreams die
The house on the other side of my psyche is warm
The lively, lusterous, lovely house
This is where dreams come true
This is where dreams...come...TRUE.