dreams

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

He slept a summer by my side
He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came

[Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg, Les Misérables]

I had finally devised the perfect life in a strange land, shielded from pain: a teddy bear to hold and kiss at night, a bicycle that shared all my most profound and exhilarating moments as my other half and soulmate. They are but things; they will never gain the power hurt me. What is to become of me now?