Disclaimer: All characters belong to DC comics, Vertigo to be specfic, and are being used only for entertainment. No money is being made off their use. The poem belongs to me, Magik, the author.

by Magik

A whisper of night in a cool, summer landscape.

A castle of silver on the edge of tomorrow.

The sound of wings and breaking glass echo through silent halls.

Like the forgotten words of a song that sings in the breeze.

In the castle stands a man, or rather a fleeting memory of one,

Who is formed from glittering stardust and lost souls.

He smiles slightly, this man of dreams, and closes his eyes.

The darkest void lies behind those death white lids

And his hair follows suit.

He is thin like a willow swaying in the breeze and its bark covered with snow.

Then, with a time lost smile and a sweep of his cloak, he vanishes

Like sugar stirred into water, gone from view but all around.

In the air his presence shimmers like a mirage in the desert

Close at hand yet too far away to touch or hold.

His voice, soft like moving clouds, fills the castle.

"Welcome to the Dreaming. I hope your stay leaves you well."

Then he leaves altogether, every gossamer piece dissipates into nothing.

The castle of silver fades from view and so do the clouds.

Now all there is, all there can be, is the glowing light of dreams.

But even as that lessens with the tug of the waking world

He is there, in the shadows, the man of many names

The Prince of Stories, the Lord of Dreams, the Sandman but, of them all, he prefers Dream.

With this realization the world of sleep is gone

And a voice, harsh like nails on stone says,

"Welcome back to the world of the living. Hope you survive."