Dreamer's Man

There's always a room
for the exception to the rule.
That perfect little place
that resists all time and space.
With the solitary man,
there he stands,
and I have to step over...
the line drawn in the sands.
I look into his eyes,
so wise,
but with so much despise,
for this world that I live in with so many lies.
I want to hold him,
unfold him,
peel back the layers and gaze inside,
to where the hate resides
and then wash it all clean,
as if it was never there.
But it has to go somewhere.
So where does it go?
I think I know...
back to my land...
where he does not stand...
where he can't come with me...
so I forget reality.
This is what he does to me.